There is No Turning Back
by Esperata
Summary: Lady Velda leaves her home in Annw to travel to Knightmare Castle. Can Pickle and Treguard guide her home again?
1. Chapter 1

"Enter… stranger." A slim figure stepped through the doorway. The dusty light shone on her as she made her way silently forward.

"Stranger, sire?" The Elf-King gave her a small smile, devoid of warmth, as he watched her approach like a cat watching his prey. He had a considerable amount of magic at his disposal, even for an elf, and within the confines of his realm Annw, it is doubtful if any could equal it.

"How else should I address you, Lady Velda? I hardly know you anymore." He stood and came towards her. She sensed other elves moving in the shadows at the edge of the chamber. "You were once the favourite of my court." He began to circle her. "Sir Linden and Sir Rowan competed for your favour. None could match your speed and no other elf-maid has your skill in combat." He looked her straight in the face. Her dark eyes stared defiantly back. "Now you are disgraced. None want your association. You deserve no mercy for your betrayal."

"But you gave your word to Lord Treguard!" The Elf-King's face twisted in fury.

"I know what promises the mortal forced from me!" He turned his back on her and returned to his throne. When he faced her again he was calmer. "I gave my word I should not punish you and I would not go back on my word. But I have been giving consideration as to how you might best show your remorse for your crime. You know as well as I that you shall not be accepted back until you have been seen to pay penance." Velda frowned.

"Do you mean to punish me in spite of your word?"

"I would say I was giving you an opportunity to redeem yourself." King Arawn considered her elfin face. Her hair looked black against her pale cheek in the dim light. "Since your crime was in aiding the mortal Treguard, it is fitting that you may redeem yourself with his aid. It has concerned me that my realm is accessible from his castle. It leaves us open to attack from that side."

"Lord Treguard would not…"

"Enough!" He rose suddenly and flung out his cloak. A cold chill made Velda shiver and the candles flicker. The elves in the shadows scuttled away from the angry king. "You may trust the mortal but I do not. I am not so willing to place the safety of my people in his hands." The King's eyes narrowed and the elf-maid looked down abashed. "You shall travel across the barrier that separates us and guard the portal from all intruders until it can be blocked." He sat down once again.

"But my Lord! That means I must go through the Dream Caverns!" The Elf-King truly smiled now.

"Indeed. You fear that travelling that path will bring you death. You can refuse to go of course. After all, you've defied me before. But this time there will be no mortal to protect you."

"Do you wish me to die for my redemption then?"

"No. But if you stay, I shall of course be forced to punish you. You may avoid further disgrace by leaving. In your absence people will forget your faults and remember only your merits. Surely that is what you wish?" For a moment Velda feared a trap. His words were too sweet. But she reproached herself immediately for her suspicions. After all, she had asked if he wished her dead and the answer had been an unambiguous no. She trusted King Arawn's word.

"Of course my Lord." She bowed her head. "I am grateful for this opportunity. I shall not disappoint you."

"I am sure you won't." She looked up at his tone but his face was filled with kindness. "And I shall gift you the use of a spell to ensure you know what must be done. The spell is called REVEAL and it will show you what you may not otherwise see. Not in a physical sense but it will reveal, for example, how you may have been deceived. Now then, do you have any last requests?"

"I would like to take an elven horn with me."

"I doubt it'll be of any use to you. Not when you are through the Dream Caverns."

"I may meet with other friends or elves. And even though _I_ may know none will come to my aid, others will not realise that." The King gave her a shrewd look.

"It will be a shame to lose you, Lady Velda. There are few in my court who possess your optimism, courage and wisdom."

"But I shall return, my Lord." The King smiled but said nothing. In a moment though the smile was gone and he was the harsh king once more.

"Very well. Take a horn and go."

"Until we meet again, my Lord." Velda bowed low before turning and making her way out. King Arawn watched her go as the light faded from his land.


	2. Chapter 2

Velda crept deeper into the Dream Caverns. She did not know how far she would have to go to reach Lord Treguard's realm but she knew in her heart she had not yet left King Arawn's domain. It was dark and damp in the tunnels and she was grateful for her magic nimbus of light. She wondered briefly how mortals coped in such situations but she did not let the thought worry her. Something else was nagging at her mind. There was another presence in the tunnels. Neither elvish nor mortal. She clasped her sword hilt and pressed onwards. The presence was obviously possessed of great magic for her to be able to sense them at such a distance. She was thankful they were not close for, although she of course feared none but her king, she could not help but feel uneasy in the tunnels. It had long been said by her people that they led directly to the Otherworld and that any elf who dared to travel their paths would never return. If it were not for the fact that King Arawn had safely travelled them, and his assurance that they would not cause her death, she would never have ventured in, even if it meant facing the King's wrath. Her thoughts drifted again to the mortal. Did he fear these tunnels?

A sound broke her reverie and Velda realised there were footsteps behind her. In one swift movement she spun around and drew her sword. A strange hooded figure was on the path behind her. His footsteps rang on the stone floor and he seemed unsurprised by her aggressive pose.

"What have we here?" he pondered.

"I am Lady Velda of King Arawn's court and you are trespassing on his realm." The figure laughed.

"You are no longer in his realm, my Lady, nor are you in the mortal's world. This is my kingdom. Perhaps you'd like me to escort you on your way?" He took a pace forwards and reached out to her. But she was looking at his foot revealed beneath his cloak. It was a hoof. Quickly she skipped back and with a flick of her sword uncovered his face. In spite of herself she gave a gasp. Two horns adorned his brow and a beard of thorns decorated his chin. The creature's eyes blazed a livid green as he threw off his disguise with a laugh.

"Look upon Evil incarnate, girl. It is the last sight you shall ever see." He reached for her again but she slipped from his grasp. She fled from the hellish apparition though she still saw his pallid face before her. In her fright she let fade the nimbus of light she'd summoned and ran in darkness, trusting to her instincts and following a faint breeze. The demon's mocking laugh echoed from all around her.

"There is no escape. You are forsaken of the world and sooner or later I shall claim you. There is no escape." With his words still sounding in her ears and with a faint scream of terror Velda suddenly found herself out in the open. She fell to the ground only dimly aware of the stars overhead before her mind lost consciousness.

When she awoke the first thing she saw was a deathly white face staring at her. She screamed and slithered back up against the wall. The face gave a yelp and leapt backwards as well, causing a great many small bells to jingle. Velda frowned in puzzlement at the sound and eyed the apparition cautiously. She quickly saw it was no demon but a human jester, dressed in a strange costume of red and green. The only weapon she could see was a mock sceptre with a mannequin head affixed to one end. Satisfied he was no threat she relaxed.

"You're a jester." She said simply. He gave her an elaborate bow.

"Folly is my name and foolishness my nature, confusion is my character and fun my alma mater. But tell me, what's your name?"

"I am the Lady Velda of King Arawn's court."

"King Arawn?" He shook his head from side to side. The bells on his three-pointed hat jingled again. "Why, that rings a bell." He laughed at his own joke. "But if you are from Anwin Wood, how have you ended up here?" Velda narrowed her eyes as she scrutinised the jester.

"You are very wise for a fool. Few mortals could say where King Arawn presides yet you have done just that." Folly smiled

"There is more wit in foolishness than you could guess."

"Tell me then, what is this place."

"Why, this is nothing more or less than the dungeon of Knightmare Castle itself." He threw his arms out expansively. She looked around. They were in a valley just outside the caves and tunnels she had run through earlier. The sun glinted in a waterfall splashing merrily down the wall to her left.

"It doesn't look like a dungeon to me." Folly held up a warning finger.

"Ah, but Knightmare dungeon is no ordinary dungeon. It spans both space and time, and so is not limited to Dunshelm alone. There are many entrances, like the one you came through. And it can change at random. The doors do not always lead to the same place. Powerful magic warped it, you see. It was created by a foul creature called," he looked conspiratorially from side to side before leaning close and whispering, "the Gruagach."

"But I thought Lord Treguard ruled here?" Folly blew a raspberry.

"My, and people call me the greatest fool in all the world. Of course Treguard rules here. He was the only knight to survive the creature's traps. With my help, of course." he added.

"You are more than you seem fool. If you were not I should have killed you already for your insolence."

"Temper, temper. And poor Folly was only checking to see you were not injured." He looked hurt and turned to go. A sudden memory of a pair of fierce green eyes made her call out.

"Wait! Don't leave me here alone." She raised herself back onto her feet as the jester turned back.

"Those tunnels really frightened you didn't they?" Folly looked on her compassionately. Her eyes blazed defiantly.

"I fear nothing," she declared. He went over and took her arm.

"Well, don't worry now. Folly shall take care of you. Which leads me to wonder," he pondered as he led her away from the caves, "who's the greater fool? The fool or the fool who follows him?"

"Please, no more jokes. I scarcely have the temper for them when I'm in a good humour and my nerves have been sorely tested already this day. Tell me more of the history of the dungeon." She allowed him to lead her as she was in truth unnerved by her experiences.

"Very well. Knightmare Castle was once Dunshelm, a Saxon fortress intended to keep the Scots at bay. All well and good except it was not the Scots they needed to watch. Norman invaders took the castle and killed every last one of the Dunshelms. Well, all except young Treguard. He escaped and became a mercenary, signing up for the crusades." He led her along the valley, past a strip of marshes.

"When he returned to reclaim his birthright he found the creature had taken over and was challenging knights to face his dungeon. None came out alive. With the aid of a sorceress he found out how to kill the creature and while on his way encountered me." Folly paused in his narrative and looked thoughtful. "Together we rode here to confront the Gruagach."

"Why did you come as well?" Folly shrugged. "It might have meant death." He laughed at this.

"Indeed it was foolish to come and there you have your answer." Velda was not happy with this but she didn't want to offend him and be left alone again so she kept quiet as Folly continued. "We walked the dungeon path together and overcame the obstacles set in our path until we came at last face to face with the monster at the heart of the lair. The final test was one of courage and Treguard proved he had plenty of that. When the Gruagach was defeated I suggested to the master that he subvert the Gruagach's aim here. Instead of using the dungeon to kill off bold knights use it to encourage new ones. And so he has done."

"This Gruagach, he sounds like one I've encountered. Powerful in magic and evil in intent. Has he other names?"

"A thousand titles and a thousand faces." Folly said mysteriously. Velda nodded in understanding.

"Treguard must be wonderful indeed if he bested that one."

"He is indeed," said Folly as they entered a stone room that seemed to be a kitchen. A girl was standing by a table in the centre of the room holding a knife.

"What treachery is this?" Velda slipped into a defensive stance and drew her elven blade. The girl looked up at them.

"Oh! A goblin!" She dropped the knife and crouched down behind the table.

"A goblin! Why of all the insults!" Velda snarled. The girl peeked over the top of the table.

"Well, if you're not a goblin, what are you? You aren't human?"

"Such insults. First goblin then human. I am an elf-maid." Folly had gone over to the girl and now encouraged her to stand.

"Gretel, this is the Lady Velda of Anwin Wood. Velda this is the maid Gretel." Velda sheathed her weapon.

"That explains the lack of common courtesy then. Not only are you human but nothing more than a maid. I should have done you a favour by putting you out of your misery now." Gretel was about to snap back a reply when Folly interrupted her.

"Gretel meant no disrespect my Lady." He approached Velda. "She has never met with an elf before. Or a Lady come to that. It would be most generous of you if you were to sit a while." Being both hungry and weary she acquiesced and sat by the table. She saw now that the girl had been preparing some food on the table. That explained the knife. The maid looked disgruntled but quickly remembered her manners.

"May I offer you a cookie, my Lady? I made them myself." Velda smiled at the girl's good grace and took a proffered biscuit. She was pleased to note the look of pride the girl had as she ate it even though Velda's earlier remarks were obviously not forgotten. Or forgiven.

"So, what is it like to be a serving maid?" Gretel flushed and replied hotly,

"I am not a servant!" Folly quickly intervened again.

"Oh, Gretel's not a serving maid, my Lady. She is a maiden sort of maid."

"I knew that." She looked at Gretel and smiled. "It was only my way of avenging the accusation that I was a goblin. I can plainly see you are no servant. I am glad to see you're not as scatty or docile as some human girls." Velda suddenly frowned.

"What's that noise?" Folly cocked his head to listen but in the process caused a dozen small bells to ring. Gretel hit him on the arm and admonished him.

"Be quiet."

"I don't hear anything," he said.

"I tell you I hear something approaching." Velda got up from the table and drew her blade again. Gretel looked to Folly.

"Are you sure you're not imagining it? You had quite a scare in those tunnels." Velda's eyes flashed angrily.

"I may have been unusually disturbed by the tunnels but I am not so weak-minded as to start imagining things." Folly noticed the blade point had swung around towards him and wisely kept quiet. Gretel broke in.

"I hear something now. It sounds like… machinery." She gave an alarmed look to Folly who visibly quailed.

"The mindless threat of the mechanical warrior!" he gasped. Gretel ran around the table but Folly was temporarily frozen with fear.

"Folly!" Gretel grabbed his arm and he snapped out of it. "My Lady, we must go at once," she implored Velda.

"I fear no enemy," said Velda holding her ground. Just then the mechanical warrior entered the room. "What under earth!"

His joints clanked as they swung up and down moving him ponderously into the room. The face was painted expressionless and yet was somehow all the more threatening for that. Swinging gently in his hands was a huge morning star. The ease with which he carried it proved beyond a doubt that this was no mortal.

"This is no man you face," said Folly, pulling her away. "You cannot wound it or tire it. It would take stronger weapons than you have to destroy it. We must withdraw." Velda allowed herself to be pulled away. Folly and Gretel led her further into the dungeon until, finally convinced it was safe, they stopped. Gretel spoke first.

"We should be safe now. I must get back to Mildred. She shall wonder where I am and get up to all sorts of mischief." Folly was sat on the floor and didn't seem to hear. "Will you be alright Folly?" He nodded without looking up. The bells on his hat rang hollowly in the empty chamber. Gretel whispered to Velda.

"My Lady, I must go but may I ask you to stay with Folly awhile? He has such a fear of the mechanical warrior." Velda nodded and the maid hurried off with one last look at the miserable jester. Velda was unsure how to reassure him. She had not been raised to show her feelings. But she felt sympathy for the jester and wanted to comfort him. She knelt before him.

"I shall make a deal with you. If you show me around the dungeon, who to trust and what to look out for, I shall protect you from the glaschwight or anything else that threatens." Folly looked up at her in wonder. "Here, take this," she held out her elven horn, "and blow it whenever you need my aid." Folly took the horn.

"You aren't like any other elf I've met."

"I wouldn't be here if I were. I'm to guard our realm from mortal wanderers in repentance for aiding Lord Treguard to escape King Arawn's 'justice'."

"Ah, so that's why you're here." She nodded.

"I may only return when the portal has been permanently blocked." Folly frowned.

"How can you return if the portal is blocked?" Velda hadn't considered this and felt a momentary worry. But she quickly regained her confidence.

"I suppose I must go through the portal just before it is blocked. That is obvious."

"It doesn't leave much room for error, though, does it? King Arawn must be sure of your speed if he challenges you to return as the portal is blocked." Velda smiled.

"Ah, but there you underestimate me. No elf can match the Lady Velda for speed." Folly smiled and seemed to have recovered from his fright.

"So tell me, why do you so fear the glaschwight? He may be mechanical but he is still spell-bound."

"What an elvish way to look at it," commented Folly. "Most people would think that's what made it so frightening. I had a run in with a glaschwight some years ago. Luckily I was rescued by Lord Treguard otherwise the Gruagch would most likely have killed me."

"The Gruagach again. But why would he want you dead?"

"Wise Folly knew too much," Folly boasted. "The Gruagach realised I could help Treguard to destroy him and regretted not killing me before."

"Regretted? Before? You mean you'd had a confrontation with him previously?" Folly looked suddenly nervous.

"You've slow ears though fast eyes, if you believe the Prince of Lies."

"You promised me no more nonsense. Besides, the Prince of Lies is one other than you." She looked at him darkly almost challenging him to dispute the title but he did not.

"Alright. I'll tell you true. Folly did meet the Gruagch before. When he first came to Dunshelm, he didn't walk in and take over. Oh no! He insinuated himself gradually. By the time people realised, it was too late. Not that that stopped people challenging him."

"You challenged the Gruagch? A fool against a creature older than time?"

"Don't judge me too quickly. I'm here now aren't I? Besides, I was not a fool then."

"What were you if not a fool? Surely only a fool would challenge the Gruagach." Folly laughed at this.

"Well put. Indeed I was not far off a fool. I was a wizard. Not as powerful as Merlin of course, but no weakling either. By use of magic I forced my way into his lair to challenge the demon." Folly's eyes shone as he remembered. "The fight was fierce and long. Neither side wished to submit. But in the end I could take no more. He might have killed me then but it amused him more to strip me of my power. I was forced to earn a living as a jester. Hence when I encountered Treguard later I had to go with him. I had a personal score to settle." Folly shrugged. "And I've been here in this miserable place ever since, attempting to cheer it up."

"I'm surprised you've stayed here so long. Actually I'm surprised you've _lasted_ so long."

"I'm not completely helpless you know. The mechanical warrior terrifies me I confess but I can more than hold my own against mortal foes. There was a mad monk here in the dungeon not so long since whom I beat so badly he felt compelled to leave."

"You? But there's not a scrap of muscle on you!" Folly held up his warning finger.

"Ah, but there's more than one way to skin a cat. I beat him in a battle of insults. People don't appreciate how damaging words can be."

"They can be a very subtle weapon too," Velda pondered. She shook her head to clear whatever thought was nagging her. "What happened to the monk after he left?"

"He went to the same joust as Treguard, I think, and then he left for a monastery down in France." Velda frowned.

"This monk, did he once bear the emblem of the Knights Hospitallers?"

"I believe he did. But how did you know that?"

"I encountered him. In Anwin Wood."

"Not a pleasant experience I'm sure." Folly quipped.

"No." she said vaguely, remembering the experience. "I don't wish to stay in this dark dungeon any longer than necessary." She looked back at Folly. "But it will take strong magic to seal the breach between our realms. Who is there in the dungeon who could achieve such a feat?"

"Merlin." Folly answered promptly.

"Well, lets go find him then." Velda stood up gracefully and Folly sprang up after her like a jack-in-the-box.

"Roll up, roll up, ladies and er… lady. Folly's Tours is about to commence."


	3. Chapter 3

They had to go down a level before they reached Merlin's chamber. Velda followed Folly into the room with some trepidation. She sensed it was a place of power and mysticism before even crossing the threshold. There was a doorway in each wall and shelves in each corner. Turning about, all the walls seemed to look the same. It was a room of choice and direction, indecision and confusion. It almost resembled a crossroads but the paths led from the edges of the room and never actually crossed in the centre. Still, it made her uneasy. In the middle of this room was a throne and low table. And at the hub of this convergence sat an old man. At first glance he seemed like any other venerable old man. Frail and white haired, resting in his chair. But his positioning in this throne room of power showed he was more than he seemed. Even if he was snoring. Folly laughed and began to caper about the chair singing,

"It's raining, it's pouring, the old man's snoring; he went to bed, and bumped his head," here he tapped on Merlin's head with his sceptre, "And couldn't get up in the morning."

"Eh? What's that?" Merlin awoke and peered at the jester who was giggling foolishly. "Oh. It's you Folly." He seemed about to go back to sleep but Folly quickly stopped giggling and said

"I've brought someone to see you." Merlin looked up again and noticed Velda apparently for the first time.

"What have we here?" He peered at her. "Come, come closer so I may have a look at you." He waved her forward.

"I believe you can see me well enough from there if you are truly Myrddin, the rightful occupier of that seat." He showed no anger and his eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Humour me then." She stepped forward obligingly. He looked at her intently for a moment and she saw him not as an old man but as the powerful magician he was. Then his face relaxed again.

"So the Lady Velda of Anwin Wood has come to Dunshelm. But why have you come here?"

"King Arawn wishes for the portal between this realm and ours to be sealed."

"Yes, yes. That is why _he_ wanted you to come. But why did _you_ come?" She looked confused.

"Because King Arawn ordered me to."

"And do you always do as he says?" he asked shrewdly.

"No." she answered.

"So why did you this time?" She considered her answer.

"I hope to redeem myself in his eyes for my previous failure."

"Failure? Do you believe you 'failed' by saving Treguard's life?"

"I failed to obey my King."

"And do you believe he will forgive you? Consider, you know him better than any here. Is he capable of forgiveness?" Velda flushed angrily.

"You mortals are all alike. You don't believe an elf can ever do a good deed. You distrust and fear…"

"Peace, peace." He held his hands up in surrender. "I didn't mean to upset you. Ah, well, there's none so blind as those who will not see." Velda frowned, puzzled.

"I have not heard that phrase before."

"Oh, it's probably not been coined yet." Velda looked even more confused. Merlin had got up and seemed to be looking around for something. Folly whispered to her.

"It's probably something one of those young dungeoneers said to him."

"Young dungeoneers?"

"Oh yes. For a few months each year the dungeon opens a portal to a future time and young boys and girls come hoping to earn their spurs of squiredom. That phase just ended a month or so back though."

"Lord Treguard must have come to Anwin Wood directly after that." Velda commented.

"Yes. I advised him to take a break. He's been working at making this dungeon work for, oh, seven or eight years. And let me tell you, he was getting grumpy. He hadn't left the castle in at least three years."

"Have you seen my key?" Merlin interrupted. Folly and Velda dutifully glanced around.

"No."

"I enchanted it to speak but I keep putting it down out of earshot. When I find it I shall have to enchant it to move so I can train it to return here."

"Can't you just tie it to a string from your belt?" Velda suggested. Merlin looked to Folly.

"You know I never thought of that." Folly shrugged.

"She's not just a pretty face."

They set off back the way they had come. Folly pranced ahead and Merlin strode after him, his leafy green robes sweeping along the ground. Velda found herself bringing up the rear, a situation she was not accustomed to. Consequently she was out of humour when they reached the vale. Folly and Velda stood back while Merlin examined the caves.

"These tunnels lead to another place than Anwin Wood." he said darkly. "It would cause trouble with powerful forces if I were to simply block off this entrance. Yet it is relatively simple to lay a spell on your forest to prevent the dungeon opening any portals there."

"Relatively?" Velda repeated suspiciously.

"Yes. But it cannot be done yet."

"How long before it _can_ be done?" She crossed her arms impatiently.

"I should need to cast the spell while the phase shift was occurring or else this path would be permanently fixed to Anwin Wood." He caught her glare and quickly continued. "It's not been two months since the last phase shift and they only happen once a year."

"A year!" Velda said incredulously.

"Surely twice," put in Folly. "When the dungeon opens to the young dungeoneers."

"Ah yes, but in that phase shift it only opens portals to that world. It doesn't shift all the other pathways. No, I must wait for the major phase shift."

"I'm stuck here for a year!" Velda burst out. "I expected a few months at most. Not a year."

"It's actually just under a year."

"A year!" Velda repeated again.

"Well," Merlin glanced at Folly. "I must be getting back."

"Wait. How shall Lady Velda get back to Anwin Wood?"

"Ah yes. I can see that might be a problem." Merlin's bushy eyebrows knit together in concentration. "I shall give you three horn blasts which will sound throughout the dungeon at phase shift. Mind, you must cross the boundary before the third horn sounds. Until then, I suggest you make yourself at home." He raised his arms and with a loud crack disappeared.

"Three horn blasts isn't long." Folly said doubtfully.

"It will be enough." Velda replied confidently.

"Well, if you're staying a while," Folly grinned and took her hand, "we should continue the tour. Come on."

So Folly led her back into the dungeon and round various chambers. At first she found his continual chatter annoying but she soon learned to pick out the truth from the rhymes.

"You're not just a pretty face either." Velda commented with a smile after a while.

"For ye suffer fools gladly, seeing ye yourselves are wise."

"Another future quote?"

"No. Actually its from the Bible." Velda looked unsettled and Folly quickly changed the subject. "You'll need to learn how to pick up useful information to trade, especially with the young dungeoneers. Ah, this should be a good place to learn." They had entered a room where a guard was standing before the only other exit.

"Password." he demanded, raising his sword.

"No, no, no." Folly shook his head. "Its lucky we came along." he added to Velda who played along and nodded agreement.

"'Ere, what do you mean?" The guard lowered his sword.

"That's not the way at all. Velda, if you'd demonstrate the correct way to demand a password." Folly stood aside. In a swift movement Velda had her sword at the guard's throat.

"Password." she growled. Terrified the man stammered,

"Lionheart."

"Good." Folly stepped forward and Velda let the man go. "You just keep practising and I'm sure you'll pick it up," he said as they passed by. "You see?" he added to Velda.

They returned to the kitchen where Gretel greeted them warmly and invited Velda to dine with them. She accepted graciously and sat back at the table while Gretel prepared the meal.

"But my Lady," she suddenly exclaimed. "Where will you sleep?"

"Elves do not sleep as mortals do. We rest when we are tired wherever is comfortable. But we do not require sleep in such quantities as mortals."

"Rather like a cat then." Folly simplified it. Velda nodded.

"We are often compared to felines." Gretel turned back to her cooking and for a while she sat in silence. She watched as the two companions chatted and worked together in harmony. It puzzled her how humans could be so blind but then she reminded herself; their senses were not so developed as hers. It seemed obvious to her that these two loved each other and yet they neither of them seemed to notice.

Over the next few weeks as Velda adjusted to her new environment she found the companionship of Folly and Gretel invaluable. For humans they seemed surprisingly understanding of the difficulties she was facing. It was the first time she had been away from her people and she felt homesick and lonely. Gretel made her feel welcome in this strange place while Folly kept her entertained. He was also a useful source of information and taught her her own rhymes;

'A man in the wilderness asked of me, how many strawberries grow in the seas? I answered him as I thought good. As many red herrings as grow in the wood.'

Velda wished to express her gratitude but wasn't sure about the human custom of showing thanks. It seemed to simply involve giving them flowers but she felt sure there must be more to it than that. That seemed most inadequate. So she passed the time thinking up suitable ways to show her appreciation. The best idea she had was to help them realise their feelings for each other. But she wasn't certain how to go about it. Obviously she couldn't give the surprise away by speaking to either of them about it. But she amused herself by coming up with other ideas. Such as putting Gretel in danger so Folly could rescue her, but it was not a foolproof plan. Another option was a love potion, but they were notoriously unreliably and tended to cause more problems than they solved. None of her ideas seemed right.

One evening as Velda sat in the Vale of the Marshes pondering the complications of human courtship she was surprised by a peculiar sight. A score of young maidens in pure white dresses were escorting a horse-drawn carriage of ebony black along the valley. But she sensed that something wasn't quite right. It was somehow navigating the treacherous bogs that lined the narrow path without the aid of a driver. And where had the horse and carriage come from? There was no entrance large enough for them in the valley except the cave mouths that Velda was guarding. She tensed and drew her weapon then waited for them to reach her. The girls all looked identical, with long blond hair and piercing blue eyes. But then, Velda reflected, all humans tended to look the same.

They came to a halt in front of her and for a moment all was still. The girls continued to stare straight ahead not even seeming to register Velda. Then she heard a voice speaking from the carriage. Though her hearing was excellent she couldn't make out what was said either by the voice or the girl who replied. They spoke in a language that was all hisses and whispers. It reminded Velda of the wind in the treetops but made her spine tingle. Then the girl came towards her.

"You may not pass this way." Velda spoke firmly. The girl took no notice but without seeming to move seized her sword arm. Velda's sword clattered to the ground and she gasped as the icy grip squeezed her wrist. She was pulled irresistibly towards the vehicle.

"Enough." A commanding voice spoke from the carriage. The window was fully open and Velda could see inside quite clearly. A lady was lounging on the seat inside.

"I am not accustomed to being treated in such a rough fashion. If you wished to speak to me all you needed was to ask politely." The lady's eyebrows arched in mild surprise but she hissed something to the girl who promptly released Velda and moved back into line. Velda watched her warily as she massaged her wrist.

"The girls don't speak any mortal language but they make up for that in other ways."

"You may not pass this way." Velda repeated. Again the lady looked surprised.

"Oh mayn't I?"

"No." Velda said simply.

"And why not, may I ask?"

"This way leads to King Arawn's realm and we do not take kindly to trespassers."

"This way does not just lead to King Arawn's realm. Do you not know where else this path leads?"

"Only to death."

"Precisely. It is that path I wish to follow so kindly let me pass."

"You wish to die? I shall be happy to oblige you."

"Insolent mortal! I do not go there to die but to rule! Do you not realise who I am?" Velda scrutinised the woman. She wore a long ornate gown of glittering silver jewels with a spiky tiara of similar design that looked like it was made up of icicles. Her face, while of regular features, managed to look sharp and twisted. Velda found her thoroughly unpleasant and far too ornate for her simple elfin tastes.

"A witch?" she suggested. The lady sat up angrily.

"I am Lillith, first wife of Adam and consort to Mephistopheles! And I am in no humour for such irritations. Now step out of the way." Velda held her ground.

"Swear you will not go to Anwin Wood."

"I have no wish to go anywhere but home to bed. Can't you see I am unwell?" Lillith said testily. Velda backed away from the window and the carriage began to roll onwards.

"But mark this, elf-child. I shall not forget this insolence. Though I am indisposed my consort shall avenge me. He shall reveal to you the error of your ways." Her voice called back as the coach rolled into the cave and was swallowed in a dark cloud.

For a moment she stood just looking at the empty caves. Then, as she turned away, she heard again in her mind the lady's last warning and she suddenly realised the solution to her earlier dilemma. Cursing herself for not thinking of it at once she resolved to waste no more time in implementing her plan.

She found Gretel and Folly playing some card game in the kitchen and after exchanging pleasantries she quickly took her leave. But before leaving the room she quietly recited a spell upon Gretel.

"R-E-V-E-A-L" And with a slight smile she left it to take effect.


	4. Chapter 4

"Fiddle-di-dum, fiddle-di-dee, a jester's life is full of glee." Folly came skipping up to Velda laughing. She smiled.

"You're cheerful this morning."

"And I know you know why too." he waved his sceptre at her in mock remonstrance, "I sensed that spell you cast. I was a wizard once remember." She put up her hands in play surrender.

"Merely a Reveal spell. I'm glad it did the trick though. I should hate to have wasted it. It was the only spell I had."

"Well, we can't have you going about with no magic. After what you've done for me its only fair I pay you back a little of what I owe. So here, a parting gift from me to you, the spell Transform."

"Parting gift?"

"Yes, well, that's what I came to tell you. This isn't most people's home of choice. I mean, you wouldn't stay here if you didn't have to, would you? And Gretel wants to go back to her home in Duns. We'll still be close by."

"You're leaving me." Velda said.

"Not straight away. Treguard's got to find a replacement for me and that won't be easy." he smiled at her but she didn't respond. "Although I think he met a jester at his last joust who was looking for a new placement. Something to do with his master not appreciating his jokes." Folly quickly added "But it might take him weeks to get here."

"But you'll be gone before the dungeon opens to the young mortals." Folly nodded.

"Are you terribly angry?" Velda folded her arms and said nothing. "Please don't be cross with me. Please." He looked at her imploringly. She glanced at him and relented.

"Of course I'm not cross with you." He gave a skip and a laugh before catching her in an embrace.

"I'm so glad. I should hate to leave you sad." And with another laugh he skipped off back towards the kitchen.

Velda's good humour had completely gone and she paced angrily muttering to herself.

"Typical humans! I should never have trusted them. They're so emotional! The elves of Annw never weakened themselves with such displays of feeling. There's no reason to be so irrational. It causes nothing but pain. It was foolish of me to let them ensnare me so."

Over the next few days she didn't visit the kitchen but sulked in the valley. Eventually Gretel and Folly came to say their goodbyes. Velda did not hide her resentment that they were going but they seemed to take it as a sign of affection and left with repeated offers that she should visit them whenever she wanted.

After they'd gone it seemed to Velda that the vale was somehow quieter than usual although she knew it wasn't. But she couldn't settle and felt drawn to the kitchen where she'd so often sat with her friends. So she went back into the dungeon and sat once more at the table where she'd first seen Gretel. As she recalled all the happy memories she'd gained there she felt a deep longing and realized she missed them as much as she'd missed her people from Anwin Wood. Just then someone ran into the room chased by someone else laughing. Velda instinctively thought of Gretel and Folly and felt a sharp pain as she realized it wasn't them. The first person resembled Gretel in dress but had light curly hair not straight dark hair like Gretel's. The second person was a jester but his costume was yellow and red not red and green like Folly's. The girl stopped short at the sight of the elf-maid and the man collided into her back.

"Oh, hello," the girl said cheerily. Velda eyed her warily and said nothing.

"What's the matter?" the man chided, "Cat got yer tongue?" He shook his jester's stick at her. She looked at him with disdain. His tone was not respectful and the points of his hat hung down like a spaniel's ears.

"If it were a cat had my tongue," she said coldly, "its fled before you for you look and smell like a dog." The girl gasped in horror and the joker indignantly put his hands on his hips.

"I'll have you know, I washed only last month."

"Really? What in?"

"That's not very nice." the girl spoke. Velda focused her attention on her.

"And what's this? A serving maid?" The girl looked down humiliated.

"What's it to you, big ears?" The jester spoke again. Velda stood.

"Your predecessor was a friend of mine. I found him to be both witty and intelligent. You however, are an ignorant oaf who's forced to resort to petty insults when challenged. And you," she turned threateningly to the girl, "have the backbone of a jellyfish and the brain of a bird." She stormed out of the room.

"Good riddance!" Motley called after her. He turned to the girl. "I think we better keep out of her way Melli."

Velda retreated to the relative safety of her vale and for several months scarcely left it. Occasionally she'd venture into the dungeon but she had no friends to visit and only ever encountered enemies. She grew lonely and withdrawn with only the hope of returning home to keep her from falling prey to despair. Every week, she reminded herself, she was a week nearer to returning to Anwin Wood. But after a while she lost track of time. Each day was just like the one before.

It was beginning to get late in the year when she decided to venture once more into the dungeon. Her footsteps led her to what she thought of as Ariadne's lair. The queen of spiders wasn't there and Velda stood at leisure recalling the time she and Folly had faced the giant arachnid. He had shown great bravery though it was her crossbow that had seen the spider off. Still he had kept her at bay while she switched weapons and loaded her bow. She wouldn't have had time alone. The memory made her sad as she continually missed Folly's company.

She was so absorbed by her memories she didn't immediately notice a mortal enter the room behind her. The sudden realization startled her and she spun around threateningly with dagger drawn.

"Elven death!" she cried. "Stand still or perish." She took in her enemy. It was not big but it was strangely clothed and its head was covered in a helmet. It made her nervous. "Now be you goblin, troll, banshee or dwarf, you'll answer to me or meet your maker." The creature did not move or reply. Velda risked moving closer. "Well, come, what kind are you?"

"Human." The creature finally spoke. Velda still sensed magic.

"I don't like this." She backed off. Was this one of the young dungeoneers Folly spoke of? Or was it some creature disguised as human. "I don't like this at all. You're not supposed to be here." She felt threatened and moved in closer in preparation to attack but thought again. Maybe the dungeon had moved. "Or else, perhaps here is not supposed to be here." She changed her mind and backed off nervously. Then she sensed another presence. Turning to it she held her knife ready.

"And you brought a doolie with you. Hold dark one and name yourself." A voice spoke from the air.

"Calm yourself miss, if you please, for I am no enemy, merely Treguard the dungeon master and referee in the greater game of luck and glory." The presence vanished leaving Velda more unsettled. She had had no contact with Treguard since their meeting in Anwin Wood. Was this a trap for her in revenge for his trials there? She did not believe he would do such a thing but this helmeted human made her nervous. Why did it not speak?

"What do you want of me?" She shifted uneasily as she waited for it to make its move. Finally it spoke.

"Could I get past please?" Velda was incredibly relieved to be asked such a simple thing so politely.

"Nicely spoken young human." She relaxed and sheathed her weapon. "A fair tongue will get you much that must otherwise be paid for." She paced with hands on hips as she spoke. "Now, listen carefully. I know little of your business but something of the path ahead… and below." She stood before him. "This is what I do know. The second step is thistle. But it is not the next step. Farewell, and good luck."

She left quickly but did not go far. She followed the dungeoneer invisibly to ensure the sanctity of Anwin Wood was not compromised. It was a relief to see them sink into the marshes though she was surprised to feel somewhat disappointed.

She expected to encounter more dungeoneers soon after but time passed and she saw no-one. Eventually she decided to risk leaving the vale to get some exercise. It was therefore with great annoyance on returning she found another dungeoneer actually outside the Dream Caverns. She challenged him to prove he was really on a quest and he provided a gauntlet as mark of the challenge. But just as she began to warm to the human she saw he'd led an ogre to the caverns.

"Curse you, you blundering human," she cried angrily but still she guided the sightless human out of harm's way before facing off against the ogre.

"Right, you tower of fat and ugliness. This is where you learn how an elf blade burns." She landed some solid blows and her larger opponent turned tail. Being the more threatening of her two adversaries she followed him back to his lair. Despite his obvious size advantage he was slow of foot and thought and Velda was able to hurt him without receiving any wounds herself. She returned to her valley only when she was certain the ogre wouldn't risk incurring her anger again.

When she returned the dungeoneer had gone but she could see they had not entered King Arawn's realm. Still the experience convinced her not to stray far from there. So she was only within the cave mouths when she heard an elven horn summoning help. Her thoughts went immediately to Folly to whom she had entrusted her horn so long ago. Had he returned? Did he need her help? With crossbow at the ready she hurried to help her friend in the vale.

"Elven death! The call is answered." A mechanical warrior stood opposite her in the valley and she quickly fired at it recalling her promise to the jester. However she realised immediately it was not Folly who had summoned her. It was another dungeoneer. Still she had only temporarily felled the knight and she restrained her anger while she dealt with the current threat.

"Quickly young human. The thing cannot be destroyed, only damaged." She headed back to the cave mouth. "Hurry, come on, this way," she called before following a pathway back into the dungeon. It had crossed her mind to leave them in the vale but she couldn't risk them wandering down the wrong path. She waited impatiently in the ruined room, with hands on hips, until finally the dungeoneer found her.

"Well you certainly took your time." She began to pace angrily. "However, now that you are here, you can stop worrying about the doolie and start explaining how you came by that elf horn you are carrying." It occurred to her this creature might have encountered Folly. "Well? Where did you find it?"

"On the table in the clue room." Velda was disappointed Folly had left her gift behind.

"I see." She said. If he'd encountered Folly she would have trusted him but in the circumstances… she drew her blade.

"Well, that's all well and good but now it must be returned. You see we of the fair folk are particular about those who call us. Though you carry the means you haven't earned the right. So," she held out her hand, "the horn at once please." He held it out and she took it in her spare hand. "There, that's better. Now, what is your name?"

"James."

"Well, James, I am Velda." She held out her arms and bowed. "Keeper of the Gate and Warden of the Lower Marshes. While you walk in my chambers you will harm no living thing or answer to the elf kin. Understand?"

"Yes"

"Now, I wish you neither ill, nor good, but you may have passage. Farewell."

She took the horn back to the kitchen where she had most memories of Folly. Carefully she laid it in the drawer where he'd kept his sceptre at night. Solemnly she closed the drawer and left. Somehow she felt betrayed. He had not only left her, he had left her gift. Still she could not bring herself to take it back.

She returned to the vale with a strong sense of frustration. Frustration that she was stuck here. Frustration that Gretel had taken Folly away. And frustration that she was repeatedly disturbed by these young dungeoneers. Such was her mood as she was restlessly pacing the cave mouth only to find another human there. She watched her moodily to see if she would simply pass by but the girl showed no signs of moving. Velda spoke first.

"Hold. Stand your ground, woman-thing. This path leads to the realm of the elven kin. You may not take it." She caught sight of some goblins coming along the valley. "Oh, elf-boots," she cursed swapping her dagger for her crossbow. "How did those nasties get in here?" Her frustration was forgotten with the prospect of battle and she took the time to guide the dungeoneer out of the way before facing off against the two goblins. She relished the opportunity to do something useful and indulged in some battle cries before firing at the creatures. But it was soon over as they fled before her assault. Still she felt better for the exercise though she disliked the presence of goblins. After taking a quick breather she turned back to the girl.

"Well, you're obviously no goblin, otherwise they wouldn't be chasing you. So you better introduce yourself."

"I'm Kelly."

"Kelly. I must say, you humans are awfully willing to hand over your real names. Elves wouldn't dream of handing over their real names. For with the gift goes the power of calling which means we must come. However, you may call me Velda. But understand that is not my summoning name. To business. What token do you carry to prove you are an elf-friend?" The girl handed Velda a red rose. Velda smelt its sweet fragrance and smiled. It brought her memories of home. "A fair token indeed. No-one would carry this instead of a weapon if their feet were on the dark path." She tucked the flower in her belt. "I'm afraid you may not enter the elf-realm, but in return I can give you a token. Its name is Transform. Do not waste it. And remember: The further you are from me, the weaker it becomes. Now go. Your path lies in that direction," she indicated the opposite cave and ran off down the valley.

There wouldn't be another dungeoneer straight away and they couldn't turn back so she felt free to take some exercise. She amused herself hunting down the two goblins who had trespassed in her vale. In a way she felt grateful to the mortal for providing some activity for her, which was why she gifted them with the spell Folly had left her.

Her good mood did not last long however and it was with anger that she later responded to another horn summons in the kitchen. She burst into the room with her crossbow ready. A single shot was enough o dispose of the knight guarding the room and she turned on the dungeoneer.

"I'll take that horn if you don't mind," she said snatching it from him. "Now that you've called me, you better explain yourself and make it quick." She moved restlessly with the adrenaline still flowing. "You call me from business far more important than this. Well?"

"I apologise," he said as though that would make everything right. It merely angered Velda more. The presumption! She held her arms to the heavens.

"This is not good enough. Tell me, does the bearded one still look over you?" She did not feel so kindly disposed towards Treguard as normal. This was all his fault.

"Here, Velda." His image materialised. She faced him.

"Ah, Treguard of Dunshelm. You have no right to call upon the elven kin or allow these young people to do so. And I resent being called in this fashion."

"Your pardon madam… er… miss. I merely oversee what happens here. I don't control it. You're probably best taking the matter up with Merlin. Not that he controls it either mind you, but he does seem to have more idea than most." This speech did nothing to pacify Velda.

"Well, you tell him for me. Tell the grey-bearded old fool to mend the breach between this realm and ours or we'll come visit him. All of us." She left the mortal to his fate.


	5. Chapter 5

Velda was feeling increasingly isolated. It seemed to her that she would never leave this place and go home. It was months since she'd had someone to talk to and the lack of company was taking its toll. She began drifting into trances so the time wouldn't pass so slowly. But this was a crucial mistake.

She was sitting lost in a trance when two goblins snuck up on her. There wasn't even time for her to seize a weapon before they had her tied up. They took her into the cave and placed her on a stone table. By this time Velda's mind had kicked in and she realised something was amiss. Why would two goblins go out in broad daylight to capture her? It was risky enough to attack her by why capture her? They weren't known for showing such consideration. When they'd entered her vale before it had always seemed to her that they were following the mortals but perhaps it was her they'd been after all along. She cursed her own shortsightedness that seemed now to have cost her not only her freedom but that of her people as well. Just then though something scared the goblins off. Velda looked round and saw one of the cursed dungeoneers now blessed.

"Help me," she called, "help me please." To her relief the dungeoneer came over and helped release her.

"Oh, they're revolting creatures." Untied, she sat up. "Oh, that's better. Now who do I have to thank for my rescue?" She got off the slab and faced the girl.

"Julie."

"Julie? Then thank-you Julie. You will find that we of the elven kin will neither be ungracious nor ungrateful. Now I would give you aid of a more practical nature but sadly my road lies in that direction," she indicated the cave entrance, "while there is the path you must follow." She pointed to another tunnel that led further into the dungeon. "Wait though, there is something which might redress the balance." She pulled a green gem from a pouch at her belt. "You see this? This beryl is an elven stone. One that is highly valued by all denizens of the dungeon and catacombs beyond." She placed it in Julie's hand. "Here, you take it with my thanks. Good luck and good speed." Velda left her then and turned to find the goblins. She was grateful to the mortal who'd unwittingly spared Anwin Wood and should have liked to go with her but it was much more important to discover who had set the goblins on her.

They were not hard to follow, especially for someone of Lady Velda's skill, but they didn't immediately go anywhere. She kept close to them for several days without seeing them commune with anyone. She was beginning to worry about having left the vale for so long when they both turned as one and set off as though summoned. Velda followed them discreetly deeper into the very bowels of the dungeon. They came to a halt in a dark chamber and Velda heard a whispery voice speaking to them. Fear seized her as she recognised the voice. A memory of a pallid face with livid green eyes flashed before her as she was drawn irresistibly to the entranceway.

"… pathetic waste of flesh," she heard it saying. "One mere girl escapes two armed goblins." They seemed to say something in their defence though she couldn't understand their language. She looked with a sense of dread about the corner. In the centre of the circular chamber stood the Gruagach. Or Mephistopheles. Or the Prince of Lies. He of a thousand names. Whatever you called him he was the same: Evil.

Suddenly his eyes fixed on her. They seemed to burn. He smiled a slow smile and waved his hand nonchalantly at the goblins. They both burst into unnatural flame that flared up round them and disappeared leaving no trace of the unfortunate creatures. Still staring at her frozen to the spot he muttered something and chains sprang up about the elf-maid. Finally inspired to move she struggled but in vain. He came up to her and held her chin in his hand.

"I said I should claim you sooner or later and I always keep my promises." He smiled again. "It would have been later but Lilith was anxious for me to deal with you."

"If you'd left it much later," Velda summoned up her courage, "you wouldn't have found me here." He looked amused.

"Oh no? And where would you have been? Anwin Wood perhaps?" Her body froze as she mentioned her homeland. "Foolish girl. You shall never return there."

"You haven't claimed me yet," she said defiantly. He turned from her and expanded on his claim.

"Even if I'd never met you, you should not return there." He turned. "It amuses me that your so called allies, Arawn, Merlin, Treguard do not tell you the truth while I, the Prince of Lies, do."

"The truth? I don't believe you can tell anything but lies."

"Oh but where would the fun be if I lied _all_ the time? You'd always know not to believe me. Whereas if I tell the truth sometimes, how do you know what to believe?" He was obviously enjoying himself now.

"They don't want you back. They never wanted you. That's why they sent you away. And when you try return you won't be able to. Unwanted by the mortals, unwanted by your own kind you'll be an outcast forever."

"That's a lie," she said but there was a hint of fear in her voice. The Gruagach came nose to nose with her.

"Really?" His eyes bore into her very being and she felt more vulnerable than she ever had before. And more afraid.

"I don't think I shall kill you yet," he said suddenly moving away. "It would be more fun to let you realise the truth yourself first. Still, it's not in my nature to just let you go. So I'll give you a chance to escape." He snapped his fingers and two more goblins shuffled into the room.

"Take her to Ariadne's lair and chain her up," he commanded. She struggled against them but the chains he'd conjured up held fast. They carried her to the door.

"Until we meet again, my Lady," he called after her.

The goblins held her firmly as they carried her back up to the dungeon. But Velda didn't give up. The chains were magical and would weaken as they got further from the evil sorcerer. Sure enough as they reached the higher levels she felt the chains began to give. She was about to put her strength into an escape when to her surprise the goblins put her down. Momentarily confused she paused to see what they were up to. For a second or two she couldn't tell what they were doing as they put their backs to her but already it was too late. They turned with real chains in their hands and snapped them on her wrists. Inwardly cursing her curiosity she struggled again but it was useless. The goblins took her up again and carried her out to the great spider's lair. They quickly attached her chains to the wall and fled lest the arachnid returned. Velda struggled with growing panic. Another creature entered the lair and Velda spoke quickly.

"Back! Keep away from me. Prisoner though I be you'll lose skin if you come any closer." She pulled desperately at her chains then noticed the thing moving towards her.

"Why do you come closer?"

"I want to help you." Velda looked again and realised it was a dungeoneer not another goblin.

"How?"

"I have a key"

"A key?" Velda felt a surge of hope. "Maybe it will fit this lock. Come, come," the dungeoneer approached her cautiously and produced the key. "Turn it clockwise. To the right." Velda instructed. She felt a wave of relief as the cuffs fell off her.

"Well I suppose I should thank you human." After her experiences that day she did not feel disposed to trust anyone again. She massaged her wrists gently.

"But it comes hard to my lips. However, you will find that the elven kin are not ungenerous." She glanced about nervously as some of her fear returned and she drew her blade. "I must leave this place at once. But before I do so, know this as the truth. No way can flesh pass the moving wall and yet to reach the wellway you must pass it. The second step is the lion." Honour satisfied Velda hurried away. She was lucky to have escaped and yet the demon's words still haunted her. _'And when you try to return you won't be able to.'_ It couldn't be true.

She paced outside the cave mouth watching the entrance. All she wanted to do was run through those tunnels and go home. What the demon said couldn't be true. She turned away from the temptation and headed into the dungeon. She had to stay until it was time for Merlin to seal the breach but she couldn't bear to look at the tunnel mouth any longer. What if he was right? She went to the kitchen and sat at the solid oak table. Lost in her thoughts and worries she lost all sense of time. She didn't eat, sleep or even move until an echoing sound filled the dungeon. The first horn blast! She was up and running for the vale even as her mind processed this information. The grounds shook under her feet but she ran swift and sure as only she could.

She made it easily to the caves before the second horn sounded. However she wouldn't slow her pace until she stood in Anwin Wood once more. She followed her heart as it led her to her homeland through the dark and dismal tunnels. The sound of rooms collapsing echoed after her. Then she struck something hard. As she fell back to the ground she looked up at the monstrosity before her. It was a wall. A solid wooden wall. With a note pinned to it. She stood up carefully and took the note off the barrier. It read:

'Farewell Lady Velda. We shall always remember you well.' And was signed King Arawn.

It had been less than a minute since the first horn blast when the third and final one sounded. Along with the sound of rooms and pathways collapsing there was an inhuman cry of pain and defeat. Stuck in the Dream Cavern, which was shifting through time and space, Velda gave vent to her pain. As silence fell on the tunnels once more Velda turned and fled. She had no idea where she was any more. She couldn't sense her home and her eyes were blinded by her tears. There was nowhere to go and no-one to run to. The demon had told her the truth! Alone and afraid the elf-maid just kept running until she tripped upon something and fell to the ground. Unable to summon the will to rise she curled up among the leaves and cried herself to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

A willowy elfin lady with chestnut hair escorted another elf across the forest village. She pointed out various places.

"There are the council chambers where the elders meet to discuss important matters. Outside you see Beorc, the silver birch tree of regeneration that our ancestors declared the centre of their new home. The elders shall meet here later to agree to let you join the Tuatha de Danann. It isn't much more than a formality," she reassured him as they moved on. "They met in a very similar case only three years since and raised no objections there." Her companion stopped her and pointed across the village.

"Who's that?" he said gazing across the clearing. He was staring at a lithe elf-maid who was demonstrating archery to a group of children. She had dark shoulder length hair that shone bronze where the light caught it. "She's beautiful," he murmured. His guide looked over and smiled.

"That's the elf in question. She joined us just three years ago. Come, I'll introduce you." They headed over. As they came closer she stopped her lesson and turned to them. Her dark eyes looked with distrust at the stranger but softened at the sight of her friend.

"Laurinda, welcome."

"Velda. I am sorry to disturb your lesson but I wished to introduce our new companion." She indicated the elf with her.

"Velda?" he said surprised. She looked suddenly wary.

"Yes?"

"You were at Dunshelm. Treguard told me about you." He smiled at her. "My name's Pickle. I arrived just after you left. Treguard told me you'd gone back to Anwin Wood. What are you doing here?" There was a pause. Velda seemed frozen with shock. But suddenly she drew her sword and held it to his throat.

"Who are you? What do you want here?" she demanded.

"I'm Pickle," he repeated. "I was magically sent here by a genie. I'm sorry if I've upset you." Laurinda put a hand on Velda's arm.

"Velda, he means you no harm." Velda glanced at her friend and lowered her weapon.

"What do you know of my past?" she demanded.

"Just what I've said. Treguard said you saved him from death and in return he had King Arawn," Velda flinched at his name, "spare you from punishment. You then spent a year at Dunshelm before returning to Anwin Wood. That's all I know." She searched his eyes for the truth.

"If you've lied about what you know I assure you you'll not be able to tell anyone anything ever again." She looked about at the children watching them. "That's all for today children." she said before stalking off.

Laurinda approached Pickle as the children dispersed.

"I must apologise for Velda, Pickle. She is very sensitive about her past. I can say no more than it was painful. Don't judge her too harshly." Pickle had been staring after Velda. Now he turned in surprise to Laurinda.

"Harshly? I think I'm in love." It was Laurinda's turn to be surprised now.

"Love? She just threatened to kill you!" He waved this aside.

"A simple misunderstanding."

"But you know nothing about her."

"I know she's spirited, proud and determined but ultimately on the side of good." He shrugged. "I can't explain it. I just sense we were meant for each other. We've both left our old homes. We both turn up here. We both came from Dunshelm." He lightened his tone. "Plus, I think she's the most beautiful creature I ever saw."

"Well, you haven't made a very good first impression on her."

"I'll win her round. You'll see."

That afternoon, the elder's officially declared Pickle a member of the elves of Freneville. And that evening they had a feast to celebrate. It was customary on such occasions for all members to individually greet the new member and welcome them to the kingdom. So it was that Velda approached him.

"I wish to officially welcome you to Freneville Forest," she said then added, "and to apologise for my earlier rudeness."

"That's alright." Pickle smiled. "To err is human, to forgive divine." A slight smile touched Velda's lips.

"A future quote?" she enquired.

"Yes. But I should apologise too. I have a habit of talking before I think, if I think at all that is." Velda really smiled now and looked at him again.

"You remind me of someone I once knew." she commented.

"Really? Who?"

"A fool." She laughed. "But a wise fool."

"I'll take that as a compliment." he said. She graced him with another smile before heading back to her table.

The feasting and dancing continued well into the night and Velda watched the newcomer with interest. He was very different to the men she had grown up with. They were all tall, broad and strong. He was scarcely bigger than her. They were full of boasts of brave deeds. He seemed funny and witty. And his hair shone in the firelight. The fair strands caught and reflected the light so it almost looked alight. The way his hair rose up from his head added to the flame-like effect. She caught herself smiling at the thought and a sudden fear seized her. She made her excuses and left the clearing. Pickle watched her go with disappointment.

When Velda arrived to begin her class the next day she saw Pickle was already there chatting to the children.

"My father can confuse mortals so much in the forest that they get lost and never find their way out."

"Never?" Pickle's arched eyebrows rose.

"Well, never where they meant to be."

"That's easy," another child stepped forward. "My father was once chased by a hundred men and he outran them all."

"He must be the fastest elf ever then." The child looked to Velda.

"Lady Velda's faster, aren't you?" She smiled.

"I've yet to meet my match. But you all should be practising. Go on." The children picked up their bows and spread out to face the targets. Pickle watched them.

"They're good students. So keen to learn," he said.

"Aren't all children eager to please?"

"Not all children. You must be a good teacher to inspire such effort."

"I have no experience with children. I simply expect them to do as they are told and they do."

"You have a gift with them. They naturally wish to please you so do exactly as they're told. I never did as I was told as a child." Her eyebrows rose now.

"I'm sure you didn't."

"My parents pretty much let me do as I liked. But then I was always playing tricks so I learnt my trade 'on the job', as it were."

"My parents enforced strict discipline. I practised my skills and learnt my lessons routinely each day."

"That can't have been much fun."

"It wasn't meant to be fun. It was meant to prepare me for adult life."

"Childhood should be a time for fun."

"Perhaps. But if they learn nothing now, how shall they cope when they are grown? If they do not learn their lessons, who shall teach their children?"

"But all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." He realised how that sounded and was about to apologise but Velda spoke first.

"If you'll excuse me," she went over to correct a boy's pose, "I have a class to teach." Pickle watched her, uncertain whether to interrupt her lesson. She was clearly making herself busy so he decided to apologise later and left her to it.

The next morning as she was about to go for a stroll in the forest, Pickle caught up with her.

"Velda. Where are you going to?" She answered without stopping.

"Just out walking." He matched his pace with hers.

"I'll come with you. I haven't seen the forest yet."

"I'd rather go alone," she said bluntly. "I'm sure no-one wants my dull company."

"No-one should be alone," he answered quickly. She glanced at him. "What if something should happen to you?"

"I can take care of myself."

"I'm sure you can. But you may need someone to clear up the bodies after you. Or to tell of your daring battles against overwhelming odds. There once was a lady from Freneville, who battled her way up a hill, but once at the top, she found she must stop, or else she'd be battling still."

"Brilliant." she said sarcastically.

"Well, you have a go then," he retorted. She hesitated.

"There once was an elf from Dunshelm… who sat all day under an elm… he ate only cake, which his mother would bake," she thought hard but couldn't do better than, "for that foolish elf from Dunshelm." He grinned.

"Not bad."

"Alright, I never said I was good at rhymes."

"I know lots of rhymes. Lavender's blue, dilly, dilly," he sang, "Lavender's green; when I am king, dilly, dilly, you shall be queen." Velda stopped suddenly. "What's the matter?" Pickle asked.

"I have to go back now." She turned and headed back.

"Did I say something to upset you?" Pickle hurried after her. "I'm sorry if I upset you yesterday but I never meant it like it sounded."

"No, it's nothing. I forgot something that's all." She said nothing else and left Pickle on his own in the village. He felt rather confused. One minute they seemed to be getting on very well and the next she was treating him like a nuisance. Well, there was more than one way to see if she liked him. He decided to ignore her.

So for the rest of that day he avoided her. If she entered a place he left it. Velda realized she'd acted foolishly and upset him and was sorry. But she wasn't sure what she could do about it. She resolved to apologise when she next saw him. But every time he saw her, he left before she could speak.

Velda's response to this treatment was to get angry. She snapped at everyone and the children didn't dare misbehave in her lessons. Finally Laurinda approached her.

"Velda. What is upsetting you?"

"I'm not upset. I'm angry."

"I can see that. But last time you acted like this it was because you were upset." Velda looked at her friend and relented.

"It's Pickle. He's acting so childish."

"Why should his behaviour bother you?

"It doesn't." Laurinda smiled.

"Velda, you may lie to me but don't lie to yourself. Do you know what he said after first meeting you?" Velda shook her head. "He said he sensed you were meant for each other. He said he loved you."

"He said that? After I…" she held a hand to her throat mimicking a sword. Laurinda nodded.

"You know in your heart that it's true. You two were made for each other."

"But he's not even talking to me!"

"Of course not! You've given him no encouragement to and have often discouraged him. Go find him and apologise."

"How? He's avoiding me." Laurinda looked severe.

"Is this the bold Lady Velda talking? You cannot give up so easily. Seek him out and make him listen."

"What if he won't?" Velda said hesitantly.

"He will." And so saying, Laurinda left her.

Velda was nervous at leaving her friend but she set off round the village looking for Pickle. At first she was afraid of finding him but as she looked in more and more places and didn't see him she began to despair of finding him. No-one she spoke to had seen him since the day before. What if she'd upset him so much he'd left?

It was late afternoon and the sun was beginning to set when Velda gave up. She sat emotionally exhausted on a large tree stump and put her heads in her hands. Then she heard the sweetest sound she'd ever heard.

"Lavender's blue, dilly, dilly, lavender's green, dilly, dilly; when I am king, dilly, dilly, you shall be queen." Velda glanced up into the branches above her where Pickle was laid out watching her.

"How long have you been there?" she demanded.

"An hour or so." He made no effort to move. She stood up and folded her arms.

"And how long do you intend to lie there?"

"That depends."

"Depends on what?"

"Whether you've missed me." Velda was momentarily taken aback. "I know you've been looking for me. If you ask me nicely, I'll come down." She hesitated a moment before lowering her arms and saying,

"Please come down." He dropped down lightly before her. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do or say next but he spared her the problem by speaking first.

"I'm sorry."

"_You're _sorry? Why? I should be the one apologising." He smiled.

"I know this isn't easy for you and I haven't exactly been helping. Let me make it up to you now." He held out his hand.

"How?" She gave him her hand.

"I'll tell you my history."


	7. Chapter 7

He led her to a quiet glen and they sat together on a tree branch.

"So where do you come from originally?" Velda asked.

"Well, I'm not sure what the humans called it but we referred to it simply as Odal. Which of course means…"

"Homeland. I am familiar with runes."

"My people had lived there undisturbed for centuries. We had met with some humans in the forest and some of us had ventured far and wide but mostly we lived in ignorance of humans and the changing world outside. Until one spring a group of men arrived at the edge of the forest. At first we took no notice, assuming they were travellers. Then they began to fell the trees. We sent a small group out to meet with them. We hoped to learn why they were there, what they were doing with the trees and to agree a peace with them. I remember the excitement as we awaited the return of our 'ambassadors'. Only two returned. The men had taken one look at them and not even given them a chance to speak. It was only the unexpectedness of their arrival that saved them all from being killed. They disappeared and fled even as their friends tried to do the same. The excitement turned to fear. We quickly realised how much danger we were in. The humans now knew we were there and judging from their previous behaviour we no longer expected them to leave us in peace. That same night the men gathered together and agreed to march on the soldier's encampment. Most of us had never fought before and I suppose that explains why we weren't more wary. We took up what weapons we had and set out to defend our home. As we drew near we all made ourselves invisible so as to gain the element of surprise.

However we then made a crucial mistake. It was decided we'd call up a storm. To frighten the soldiers for it was a calm night without a cloud in the sky." He looked up at the stars beginning to appear in the sky.

"So we advanced with the storm gathering around us. But what we didn't take into account was the fact that the storm would alert the soldiers. As we got near enough to see them it was clear they knew something was amiss. Some had calmed their horses and managed to mount. All had swords drawn. Pleased that they were so obviously alarmed we crept forwards. We realised our other mistake once we were out from under the cover of the trees. A rain had started to fall heavily from the storm we had conjured and we realised too late that the soldiers could see where the raindrops hit us. Suddenly they had a target and they came forward with military precision. We found ourselves hemmed in, with no room to dodge the blows aimed at us. I saw many of my friends struck down." Pickle put a hand over his eyes trying to block the sight. Velda took his other hand in hers. He looked at her with gratitude but couldn't manage a smile.

"Some tried to flee back into the forest but the horsemen ran them down. I was too terrified to do anything. Then I felt a sword at my throat. A tall soldier was poised to strike me down.

'Do you surrender?' he asked. I almost slit my own throat by trying to nod. I murmured an assent and he lowered his weapon. Before I could try and escape he seized hold of me and pushed me forward away from the battle. I noticed a few others caught as I was but no more than half a dozen. To my knowledge everyone else was killed. We were simply outnumbered and outmanoeuvred with no experience of battle.

I was pushed into a tiny cage so small I couldn't even stand. As I fell forward against the bars I felt a searing pain in my hands and recoiled in shock. He was going to lock me in an iron cage."

"No!" Velda gasped. Pickle nodded.

"The soldier laughed at my pain and said

'Just to discourage you from any thought of escape. A sorcerer should pay well for a live elf. They have so many uses for creatures like you I hear.' Then he left me. No-one else came near or even looked at me but I could watch them. I saw them carrying tools and wood and gathered they were building some sort of building on the edge of the forest. Or where the forest edge used to be.

The soldier came to me every evening with scraps and water. He wanted me alive after all but he was going to keep me weak. I must have spent weeks huddled in the middle of that cage but I lost track of time. Finally he came to me and told me that we were going on a journey. I was pulled roughly out of the cage and out to where the soldiers were preparing to depart. A fort had appeared nearby though it was not yet finished. My home looked sadly diminished. Another elf had been brought out but we were the only two left it seemed. As we gazed at the far-off tree line, that was once much closer, the soldier called out.

'This heralds a great day for civilization. Not only has the new castle been founded but we have conquered the old forest!' He seemed to say this for our benefit or should I say detriment. 'From now on it shall be called the New Forest and we may ride home victorious.' The men cheered at this. The soldier turned back to me. He had brought us out to show us our defeat and that done we were to be incarcerated again.

'I'm told your kind can travel as a gas,' he asked. I said nothing. 'Get into this bottle.' I looked from him to the bottle and considered running. But I was too weak to run and only wanted to rest. With a sigh I slipped into the bottle and for the first time in a long while slept comfortably.

I was awoken roughly by a loud voice calling me for dinner and being hungry I came out. The other elf was sat nearby and I was allowed to sit by him though we weren't allowed to speak.

We had not been used to much food while in our cage but what they gave us now would have been a small enough portion for one of us. We shared it equally though and after a drink of water we were shut back in our bottles. Each evening it was the same. Our only consolation was that the soldiers were on rations as well. Though their portions were considerably larger than ours.

We grew weaker as the men took us northward. Little food and no exercise took their toll. I had little hope left but my companion had none. One evening he did not join me for supper and I was told I should be travelling alone from now on. There was a benefit in that I did not have to share our rations but I scarcely appreciated that.

Then one evening when I was summoned I found myself alone with the soldier in a small room. We were obviously in a village inn. I did not particularly care but when I found we had not moved the next night it struck me our journey might be at an end. Suddenly, after weeks of feeling nothing, I felt afraid. It was not until the next evening that the soldier spoke to me.

'Well, elf, this is our last night together. Tomorrow you'll be sold at market for a high price.' He looked at me a moment, though whether it was compassion or greed in his eyes I couldn't say. A moment later I was shut back in my bottle.

It was only a few hours later when I was called forth again. I duly materialised but gave a yelp of pain as my feet touched the ground. With more energy than I thought I had left I leapt up onto a chair next to me. A man in long robes stood before me next to the soldier. We were in some sort of tent. The man spoke to the soldier.

'He certainly is lively. And most definitely not human.'

'He came out of a bottle, of course he's not human.'

'Many things may be kept in a bottle. Genies, for example. But they do not have such a strong aversion to consecrated ground. I believe he is an elf.' The sorcerer walked around the chair I was stood on. 'I believe I've seen enough,' he concluded.

'Elf! Back in the bottle.' The soldier commanded and I slunk into the bottle with a sudden fervent wish to stay with the soldier. I didn't want to be purchased for parts.

My wish was apparently granted as every time I was subsequently summoned forth I found myself still in the soldier's possession. Unfortunately every time I was summoned forth my feet touched the consecrated ground and were soon sorely burnt. A variety of men came to see me. Some as a curiosity, a few with a thought to buy. It was beginning to grow dark when the soldier called me forth for the last time. I was tired of materialising by this time and my feet hurt so I could no longer stand. I knelt exhausted on the chair, prepared for the latest viewing.

'You better be serious about buying,' the soldier grumbled. 'I was ready to leave.'

'I assure you I am quite serious.' The voice sounded deep and commanding. I raised my head enough to look up at my latest viewer. He had the stance of a warrior but the air of a lord. Obviously a Saxon, he was dressed in the traditional style with a cloak about his shoulders. His hair was black and his face looked fierce with his bristling beard. Despondent I looked down again. I heard him walk around me. The soldier grew impatient.

'Look, do you want him or not?' The Saxon continued studying me and I felt his eyes on my head.

'Yes, but I shall only give you one bag of silver for him.' I looked up.

'One! That's outrageous,' the soldier exclaimed.

'It's the best offer you'll get. I know no-one else has made you an offer.' There was a sudden pause.

'You've been putting off my customers,' the soldier accused.

'You're lucky I'm offering you anything. If it wouldn't be akin to theft I should take him from you by force.' The soldier laughed.

'By force! You, a mere Saxon, would challenge me?'

'Indeed I should. But I am no _mere_ _Saxon_. I am Lord Treguard of Dunshelm.'"

"Treguard!" Velda echoed. Pickle nodded and continued.

"The soldier had paled at the name and Treguard said,

'I see you've heard of me. Good. So you shall accept the one bag of silver?' The soldier visibly gulped but he nodded. Treguard handed him the payment and the man fairly fled. Then he turned back to me.

'Tell me, what is your name?' I was not so fool as to tell him my summoning name but I told him the nickname my people had given me.

'Pickle.' I managed to say. He smiled on me then and said,

'Come, there is no need for you to fear now. I shall take care of you until you are recovered. Would you like me to carry you out or should you prefer to travel in the bottle? I shall leave the stopper out.' I nodded vaguely and slipped back into the bottle. To my surprise, he did leave the stopper out and I was able to fall asleep listening to the sound of the stallholders packing up.

When I awoke I was hesitant to leave the bottle. I did not know if my new owner would object. But I was hungry as it was now over twenty-four hours since I'd eaten. I decided to risk materializing. I collapsed though as soon as I had, for my feet were still injured and I was very weak. My new owner had been sleeping but he awoke quickly and came over to me.

'Steady. Are you alright?' he asked. My mouth was parched and it was all I could do to whisper,

'I'm hungry.' He nodded and went over to his saddlebag. He brought back a small parcel and his water skin. I drank gratefully as he unwrapped the parcel. He didn't have much to offer but told me to eat it all. I ate what I could but was unused to eating much and couldn't mange all of it. As I ate he walked about collecting leaves. He came back over and gently placed the compress against my feet. I winced but didn't complain.

'How does that feel?' he asked.

'Better, thank-you.' I fell asleep then, under the trees and didn't awake 'til day. When we set off again, Treguard put me up on his horse and walked alongside. He talked of his home, Dunshelm, and asked me of mine but I didn't have the heart to say much. He replaced the compresses on my feet and made sure I ate little and often. We travelled slowly further north and as the days passed I grew stronger. One morning Treguard spoke to me seriously.

'I must return to Dunshelm, Pickle, but I would not force you to come with me though you'd be welcome. You are well enough to make your own way now and I shall understand if you want to leave.'

'And go where?' I replied. 'My home and people are no more. The old forest is now the new. I have nowhere else to go. And besides, I am greatly in your debt. Elf though I be, we have some honour. I shall put myself in your service in the hope I may repay the kindness you have shown me. And while I am doing that I shall enjoy your splendid cooking.' I held up the stale bread that was my breakfast. Treguard admonished me in his customary manner

'Insolent imp!' But he smiled none-the-less. And so I went with him to Knightmare Castle and served him faithfully for several years until a mishap transferred me here. I still consider myself in his service though I have no way to return." He fell silent and for a moment Velda watched him in silence.

"You've suffered so much, yet somehow you seem so cheerful." Pickle shrugged.

"I was miserable for a long time, with good reason. It seems foolishness to be miserable now I have good reason to be cheerful." He smiled at her. She shook her head in wonderment.

"I've never met anyone like you before. You're everything I ever dreamt we elves could be." He smiled. Then he asked her gently.

"But what about you? How do you come to be here?"

"It seems so inconsequential after what you've told me."

"But it wasn't to you." She shook her head.

"I aided the mortal Treguard, as you know. King Arawn promised not to punish me but…" she hesitated, "when I temporarily left the forest he blocked my return. I couldn't get home." She looked into Pickle's eyes. "He betrayed me and abandoned me." Pickle said nothing but embraced her. Velda felt incredibly relieved. She'd feared he too would turn from her but she realised now they were indeed meant to be together. For the first time in years she felt she was home.


	8. Chapter 8

"Ah! Lord Dunshelm. Thank-you for coming." The older knight rose to greet his guest.

"Not at all. I'm glad to see you again. How long's it been? Two, three years?"

"More like five or six," Sir Edmund of Blaye smiled.

"Six years." Treguard muttered as he took a seat by his host. "It seems much nearer than that. I remember coming to ensure your support in forcing King John to sign the Magna Carta. Before I got led off on a wild goose chase."

"You were instrumental in rallying the lords against King Lacklands. It is partly for that reason I've called on you now. That and the rumours of your dealings with otherworldly creatures."

"Oh?" Treguard looked interested.

"You see recently the villagers have begun to complain of thefts and vandalisms in greater than usual numbers. It's the general opinion that it's the elves in the forest, finally deciding they don't want us here and trying to drive us away. It would be easy enough for me to send my soldiers into the forest but I have seen enough bloodshed in my lifetime and should prefer a more peaceful solution. Since you have shown your skill at diplomacy and have experience of these creatures of fay I thought I should ask your opinion." Treguard stroked his black beard thoughtfully as he considered the problem.

"Elves are certainly mischievous and can be very dangerous but they don't usually steal or destroy without reason." He glanced at his host. "Your people haven't given them any reason to turn against you I trust?"

"Not that I'm aware of." Treguard thought again.

"And you're sure it was the elves?"

"Who else could it be? There have been no strangers in the village. No-one's ever actually seen them but then they wouldn't." Treguard was deep in thought and said nothing. "My soldiers are at your disposal whenever you're ready."

"Soldiers? No. I don't think that's necessary. If they weren't already angry with you they would be if your men went into the forest. Besides, my instincts tell me it isn't them. What sorts of things have been taken?"

"Anything of value that wasn't hidden."

"Elves do not covert treasure. No. I do not think it was them. But they may know who the real culprit is. I shall ride into the forest… alone… and speak to them." Sir Edmund shook his head.

"I seem to remember warning you last time about riding within the forest."

"Indeed. I did not heed your advice then and almost paid the price for it but this time I have no choice. And I shall be more careful."

"I hope you are. I do not like you going in there alone but if anyone can survive the perils of that place, I'm sure you can."

"I shall set out in the morning. I am not fool enough to risk the forest by night."

"Then fill your glass, Lord Treguard, and tell me again of your journey to… where was it again? Oh yes, the fortress of assassins." Treguard obliged, always happy to recount tales of past adventures. It was late when the two friends retired for the night.

The next morning though, Treguard rose early and prepared to set off into the forest. Sir Edmund had brought out a chestnut mare for him to ride.

"This girl looks familiar," Treguard commented.

"She's the foal of the horse you borrowed last time."

"Lets hope she's less nervy than her mother," he said swinging himself into the saddle. As he urged the horse forward he heard Sir Edmund call after him jokingly,

"Just try to bring this one back."

He rode at a gallop to the edge of the forest, enjoying the fresh breeze from the river, but he slowed the horse to a gentle trot once he reached the forest edge. He had no idea where the elven village was but he knew well enough that they'd find him once he was in their land. For the most part he allowed the mare to lead him along the more obvious traversed paths but occasionally he changed her direction either to avoid a left-hand path or to keep from heading out of the forest.

He was beginning to get stiff from sitting in the saddle when he heard a faint rustle of leaves.

"Hold stranger. You trespass in the forest of Freneville." He pulled the horse to a stop and said with surprise.

"Lady Velda?" A moment later the elf-maid stepped into sight still with her crossbow aimed at him. As she saw his face though she lowered it.

"Lord Treguard! I did not expect to meet you here."

"I could say the same. Do not tell me King Arawn rules here as well?" Velda frowned.

"Annw, King Arawn's realm, extends to many place other than Anwin Wood but this is not one of them. King Lugh rules here."

"King Lugh?"

"Yes. Come, I shall take you to him." She turned and led him down a hidden elf-path. Treguard was grateful his horse was not so skittish and seemed content to follow the elf through the undergrowth. She stopped when she reached a silver birch tree and Treguard realised they'd come to the centre of the elven village. Part in the mortal world and part not, it would be enough to spook most men but as Lord of Knightmare Castle Treguard was used to such things. At first glance it resembled an ordinary forest glade but his trained eyes could see the portals in the trees that led to their underworld chambers. Not underground but otherworldly. He noticed Velda was speaking with another elf. His garb showed him to be an important figure but not a king. He regarded Treguard as she spoke and when she finished he nodded. Velda inclined her head to him and ran off amongst the trees. The other elf approached Treguard.

"Velda assures me you are an elf-friend and as such I welcome you. If you'd care to dismount we shall tend to your horse." Another elf had appeared by Treguard ready to take the horse. He dismounted and handed the reins to the boy who led the horse away. Several other curious elves had appeared now to see the stranger. He felt called upon to say something.

"I am Lord Treguard of Dunshelm." All the elves began to whisper to each other. The lead elf smiled.

"We know of you Lord Dunshelm. I am Taliesin, adviser to King Lugh. We do not often have visitors in the village. There shall be a feast in your honour this evening but until then you are free to go where you please."

"I come for information."

"Then I hope you may find it." Treguard was about to reply when he felt a presence at his elbow.

"Master?" He turned in surprise at the familiar voice.

"Pickle!" For a moment he was too shocked to say anything. "You ungrateful imp! What are you doing here?"

"Ungrateful, master?" Pickle looked hurt. "That is rather harsh don't you think?"

"Harsh? You're lucky I haven't said much worse you cursed fay." Pickle quickly hopped back as he advanced on the elf. The sound of a sword being drawn halted him.

"You shall do no harm to Pickle if you wish to survive this night." Velda said coolly holding her blade before him. He backed away.

"My apologies, Lady Velda. But this half-wit elf-wit left me in the lurch not so long since without so much as a word of thanks for putting up with him three long years." He glared at Pickle but his earlier anger had died down.

"Not intentionally, master. I never intended to leave at all." Velda sheathed her sword as Pickle approached Treguard again.

"You've come a long way for someone who didn't want to go anywhere."

"Surely Majida told you what happened, master?"

"She certainly did. She told me you were fed up with the dungeon and wanted to return to the forest." There was a pause.

"And…" Pickle prompted.

"And she was your replacement."

"Huh! That's what you get for trusting a genie." Velda said.

"That's not what happened at all master," Pickle took hold of Treguard's sleeve. "Well, I suppose it is but she's left out the important bits. I found her bottle when I was exploring the castle and she offered me three wishes. I said I was fed up with the damp dungeon and wanted fresh air, trees and warm sunshine. I thought that would only count as one but she sent me here and said that was my three wishes. I had no way to get back. I mean, not many ships will take an elf on board." Treguard looked at Pickle's imploring face. There wasn't a hint of a lie in his faithful almond eyes.

"That cursed genie!" he swore.

"Cursed indeed." Pickle agreed, happier now they'd made up. "If you ask me she was working for Lord Fear." Treguard covered his eyes with his hand in exasperation.

"Pickle, just because she tricked you doesn't mean she's working for the opposition."

"But she didn't just trick me, master. She tricked her way into the castle. Into a position of power. If you ask me she was probably reporting in every night while you slept."

"He sleeps _every_ night?" Velda remarked with a smile.

"He is human." Pickle grinned back. Treguard interrupted.

"It may interest you to know that we had three winning quests in the two years Majida was with me. The same amount as when you were with me and you were with me longer. And we had no victors when Velda was in the dungeon. Does that mean she was working for the opposition?"

"No, of course not." Pickle sulked. "Majida probably tricked Lord Fear as well." Velda and Treguard shook their heads incredulously. Pickle had another thought. "But my Lord, if you are here, who is looking after the dungeon? Surely you haven't left Majida in charge?" Pickle's face showed his disgust at the thought.

"Of course not. She may have fooled you but I am not yet such a fool. There have been no new quests of late so I felt no constraint to stay at Dunshelm."

"I was going to say, my Lord," said Velda "if you did not know that Pickle or myself were here, why have you come?"

"Your neighbour, Sir Edmund of Blaye, is having some difficulties with thieves and vandals. He's asked me to aid him in catching those responsible."

"And you come to us!" Velda bristled.

"I do not believe you or your people to be responsible, my Lady, but I hoped you may be able to aid me in my search." Velda relaxed.

"In that case, allow Pickle and I to show you round the village before the feast. We shall ask if anyone knows anything of these crimes."

So Treguard followed the two elves as they introduced him to various other inhabitants and pointed out all the hidden rooms of the village. Pickle gave him a running commentary of things that had happened over the years as they went. He had forgotten how much his assistant could talk. It had always annoyed him at Dunshelm but still he missed it when Pickle had left. Velda seemed quite content to let him babble on. Treguard sensed there was more between them than friendship.

It seemed though that most of the elves they spoke to were ignorant of events in Blaye. However one or two of them mentioned strange happenings at the Abbey of St. Severin that was in the forest between the elven village and Blaye. They could say nothing particular but had sensed a strong presence near there and seen a lone monk walking in the forest. Ordinarily a monk out strolling wouldn't bother Treguard but he knew from experience that the forest of Freneville was no place for any man to walk alone. Even he, Lord of Knightmare Castle, had nearly met his end alone in the forest. He resolved to ride there in the morning to investigate. Pickle and Velda offered to go with him and, since they knew the forest better than he, he accepted.

But the evening came and Treguard was surprised to see a huge bonfire and feast had been prepared in his honour. King Lugh welcomed him as the bonfire was lit. He was dressed in resplendent robes of gold and had fair shoulder length hair. He also wore a radiant expression that conveyed great wisdom. Treguard instantly preferred him to the haughty King Arawn.

"Do you greet all your visitors in this manner?" Treguard asked. The King smiled.

"We have few visitors but no, they do not all receive such a welcome. However, tales of your kindness and honour reached our ears and such qualities should be welcomed." He then indicated the seat to his right for Treguard and at another signal music started up. A group of elves with flutes and other instruments played some lively tunes while various others took turns in singing songs, mostly in latin. Treguard listened for a while as he ate but once his immediate hunger was sated he turned to speak to Pickle, who had sat on his right.

"Have you heard of Elita recently?" He noted with interest that Velda immediately turned to him.

"Who's Elita?" she asked.

"Oh, a mountain elf who lived in the dungeon a while," Treguard answered. "She and Pickle didn't get on. But then she didn't get on with many people."

"That's putting it mildly," Pickle added. "She was known as the meanest mouth under the mountain. Or anywhere else for that matter. Thankfully I haven't even heard her name mentioned since leaving the dungeon." Velda relaxed and was quickly targeted by her friend.

"Come Velda. Come sing with me." And without waiting for a reply, Laurinda pulled Velda away.

"She seems to have quite a jealous streak." Treguard commented as they watched her being dragged away.

"Yes. It's flattering really."

"Flattering! Arrogant imp!"

"Well, you can't blame her."

"I'll give you a clip round the ear in a minute." Treguard threatened. Pickle grinned but said nothing as the strings began to play a haunting, melancholy tune. For several minutes they played alone before a drumbeat livened the melody. It was joined by a flute as Velda and Laurinda danced around ever faster and faster. Suddenly though it all stopped and Velda sang,

"Tempus transit gelidum, mundus renovatur, verque redit floridum, forma rebus datur, avis modulatur, modulans letatur lucidior et lenior aer iam serenatur, iam florae, iam frondea silva comis densatur."

"She is not the same lady I knew." Treguard murmured.

"She is no longer a Lady of Annw," Pickle said watching as Velda laughed with Laurinda. "And she has been through much since she bore that title." Treguard glanced at Pickle's serious expression.

"Then I wish her joy now." Pickle's face instantly lightened.

"Then I shall take it to her."

"And I shall turn in." Treguard said rising with Pickle. "It will be an early start tomorrow." Pickle inclined his head in acknowledgement. Treguard smiled at him.

"It is good to see you again, Pickle."

"Why thank-you master."

"Though not so good to hear you again." Pickle laughed and skipped off to join Velda. Treguard watched them a moment longer before bidding his host goodnight and retiring.


	9. Chapter 9

Velda was ready and waiting when Treguard arose. Pickle however was late.

"It was how he got his nickname of course," Treguard said. "He was never very organised. I never knew his real name."

"I don't either." Treguard was surprised.

"You seemed very close. I assumed…"

"We are very close," Velda said carefully, "But such trust does not come easily to me." Treguard's code of honour prevented him asking her anything further on the matter but in any case at that moment Pickle arrived and they were able to set off.

The two elves walked ahead, treading confidently along an unseen path. Treguard, riding behind, had little to do but admire the forest as his horse instinctively followed the creatures of fay. Pickle was in his element relating tales to Velda of how some of the more foolish dungeoneers had met their end. Treguard found the journey very restful with only the sounds of the forest mingled with Pickle's chatter and Velda's laughter. It was only an hour's gentle riding from the elven village to the Abbey and they arrived at it's gates mid-morning.

"We shall wait here for you master." Treguard nodded. He had not expected the elves to accompany him onto consecrated ground. As he set off into the grounds, the two elves sat down to wait. Some minutes had passed when they heard the sound of someone approaching from the forest. They quickly made themselves invisible and watched to see who was coming.

A strange monk came into view. His head was so bowed and his cowl was so deep that they could not see his face. His step was slow but not, they sensed, with age. He stopped when only a few metres away. The elves felt uneasy but kept perfectly still. Then the monk chuckled.

"Well, my dear, I did not expect to see you again. Luck obviously sits with you." Velda paled at the voice, which sent a shiver down her spine, and she unconsciously grasped Pickle's arm.

"Seigneur des Mouches." she whispered. He raised his head and a pair of green eyes gleamed at them from beneath his hood. They were both still invisible yet he looked straight at them.

"To think, I only came here to disrupt the harmony of this trinity of man, elf, and monk. Now I get to claim you once and for all." As he'd said this he'd raised a hand to his face. They expected him to fling back his cowl but instead there was a sudden whirr of air and Velda gave a cry as something struck her shoulder. She instantly became visible and fell clasping her injury. Pickle instinctively became visible as well as he dropped to her side and sent up the alarm.

"Master!" he called. "Master!" The false monk laughed as he watched Pickle pull out the dart that had struck Velda. But Pickle sprung at him in a rage and the demon was momentarily taken aback. However, Pickle was no match for one such as Mephistopheles and it was only the timely arrival of Treguard that saved him. The creature had just flung the elf back when the Lord of Knightmare arrived. It took him but a second to register the scene: two fallen elves and a snarling monk. He ran at the creature with his sword Morpheus raised. But his momentary hesitation had given his enemy time to recover.

Before Treguard had crossed half the distance between them, a thick thorny bush sprang up and ensnared him. He struggled in vain but the branches were too thick for him to break with shear strength alone. If only he could angle his sword round.

"Well, well, Lord Treguard. It's been nigh on fifteen years but I trust you have not forgotten me."

"Unfortunately not, Gruagach. This seems to be my week for renewing old acquaintances." The Gruagach's eyes flashed to where Pickle had crawled over to Velda but he didn't give Treguard time to move.

"Indeed. But they shall not avail you now." He raised his arms to cast a final spell and was struck squarely in the head with a quarterstaff. It served only to anger him though and he spun on his unseen adversary.

"Dogsbottom!" his attacker cursed. But the distraction had given Treguard the time he needed and he brought his sword up with all his might. The Seigneur des Mouches spun back but Treguard was too fast. He impaled him on the point of his sword. A fork of lightning flashed down and the creature was engulfed in a fireball. Yet it had no heat and left no mark. A moment later all that remained was a smell of brimstone. The monk who had come to their aid looked to the sky. It was a clear day.

"What manner of fay was that?" he asked.

"The worst possible, Cedric." Treguard replied darkly. "But thanks to your help he is vanquished for the time being."

"Glad to be of service. If ever you need me or my quarterstaff again…"

"Master," Pickle interrupted, "Velda's wounded." Treguard went to her side and looked at the wound. More violet ectoplasm, elven life essence, was seeping into the air from the wound than he would have expected.

"It's nothing," she protested. "A mere scratch." She winced as she pushed herself upright. "Though it does sting a little." Treguard frowned. For Velda to confess to feeling pain meant it must hurt a lot.

"I don't like the look of it," he said. "We should get you back to the village." He turned to Cedric. "Can I rely on you to let Sir Edmund know that an evil sorcerer rather than the elves was responsible for the trouble at Blaye?"

"Certainly. I shall ride there at once."

Treguard quickly mounted up with Velda before him and hurried off with Pickle leading the way.

"Do you trust him?" Velda asked doubtfully.

"Who? Cedric? Certainly. I've known him as long as I've known you. Longer even than I've known Pickle. But surely you met him at Alvingham? He accompanied Sir Geoffrey into Anwin Wood in search of me."

"Indeed, I remember him. His language was hard to forget."

"I'll grant you he can be a little coarse at times but his heart is in the right place." Velda let the matter drop.

They returned as quickly as Pickle could lead them though Velda continued to protest she was fine. But by the time they reached the village her shoulder had become numb and she couldn't move her arm. They laid her in a healing chamber and Pickle fetched Taliesin.

He inspected the wound that was still seeping. Outside he spoke to Treguard and Pickle.

"There is sorcery at work here. None here have the power to counter it. It will require another sorcerer."

"There is a mage at Knightmare Castle who I consider an ally. He is not fond of your kind but I believe I could persuade him to help."

"It is a long way to travel. She may not have that time. I'd say she has two nights but certainly not three."

"I shall travel along the ley paths. That should halve our travel time." Taliesin looked back towards Velda uncertainly.

"We must try," Pickle implored. "She shall certainly die if we don't."

"Of course." Taliesin smiled gently at him. "I only tell you this to prepare you for the worst."

"We should leave at once." Treguard declared.

"Take some food first. It is but midday and if you eat now you shall be able to ride until dark." Treguard nodded.

"Pickle, go pack whatever belongings you and Velda shall require but pack light." Pickle hurried off to obey. Taliesin held Treguard back a moment longer.

"I sense I shall not see either Pickle or Velda here again." He held up a silencing hand. "I do not mean I sense the worst for Velda. But since they both arrived I've sensed they would not stay with us long. I have some slight gift of prophecy." He explained.

"But you cannot say whether Velda shall live or die?" Taliesin shook his head sadly.

"I expect that once at Dunshelm they shall chose to remain with you rather than return. Reassure them that I anticipated their decision though they will of course always be welcome here."

"Of course. Will you in turn send word to Sir Edmund of Blaye that I have had to return prematurely and request him to have my things sent after me?" Taliesin inclined his head obligingly. "Oh, and apologise to him for the loss of his horse. I'll send him the payment for it again." The elf looked slightly confused.

"Again?"

"A long story." Treguard apologised.

He ate quickly and within the hour they were ready to depart. Laurinda had bound Velda's wound and prepared a food parcel for them to take. She and Taliesin stood by to see them off. Treguard didn't think it wise for Velda to disapparate into a bottle so he set her in front of him wrapped in a thick cloak. Pickle however was made to travel in his bottle for convenience.

"When you send payment for the horse," Taliesin said, "Send word to us of Velda's condition."

"I shall. My thanks again for your hospitality." Treguard turned the horse and urged it forward.

"May Danu guide your steps." Laurinda called after them.

Treguard urged the horse to a gallop through the forest keeping her as near as possible to a straight line in the thick woodland. He was relieved to come to the forest edge and let the mare's pace slacken as he turned her north.

"It must be seven years I've been in Freneville forest." Velda commented as she scanned the landscape passing by them.

"And now you're retracing your steps to Knightmare Castle."

"I never came this way. I was sent magically there much like Pickle." She smiled faintly. "Fate, I suppose."

"Aye," Treguard agreed. They travelled in silence most of the way. Treguard urged the horse fast over clear terrain but was forced to slow for woodland and hills. Still he was determined to reach the north coast before dark.

The ley roads helped speed their journey and the sun had not long set when they arrived at a small seaside village. Treguard found a fisherman still about and agreed to trade his horse for a small sailboat. Luckily with Velda wrapped in a cloak, and the increasing darkness, the man didn't notice she wasn't human. Only when the boat was too far from the shore to be seen did Treguard release Pickle. He went immediately to Velda.

"How are you?" he asked laying a hand to her cheek.

"Cold," she replied wearily, "and tired." He draped the cloak over her. She closed her eyes to sleep. Treguard signalled to Pickle.

"She has a fever, master." he whispered. Treguard nodded.

"We mustn't lose any time in the crossing. If you can manage the boat I shall get some rest. then we can set off again as soon as we land." Pickle nodded.

Treguard made himself as comfortable as he could and fell asleep with the sound of waves lapping against the side.

When he awoke he felt very stiff but refreshed. Pickle was endeavouring to get Velda to eat some fruit so Treguard took in their position. He was somewhat surprised to see a shore before them. He tried to gauge how late it was by the sun but there was too much cloud cover.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Some hours, master." Pickle replied. He looked exhausted and Treguard realised he must have summoned a wind to speed their crossing. And he recalled now that Pickle hated water.

"Have you eaten?"

"He says he won't eat 'til I do." Velda said weakly. She was forcing herself to eat slices of apple that Pickle was handing to her. It looked like she was struggling but she didn't give up. Treguard took some fruit for himself and chewed it thoughtfully as the wind blew them closer to England.

Before they reached the shore he sent Pickle back into his bottle so he had to land the boat himself. He guided the boat along the coast until he came to a settlement and then landed the boat on the beach. Velda was too weak to stand so Treguard carried her. He received some strange looks from people but the horse dealer he found was happy to overlook their appearance when he was shown some gold coins.

Treguard quickly placed the elf-maid up on the steed and set off north once again, thankful that he always carried some money for emergencies. He rode as fast as he dared but Velda was fading and would have fallen off if Treguard had not been holding her on. To make things worse it had begun to rain and there was nothing he could do to prevent her getting wet. He didn't stop for lunch but rode on until evening. Finally, the horse was exhausted and they were forced to stop.

Treguard released Pickle who had at least had a chance to rest and was the only one of them to stay dry. Treguard sat back and chewed on some dry bread and meat while the elf checked on Velda.

"She is worse, master," he reported. "And she is wet."

"Collect some firewood then." Treguard said wearily. Pickle quickly disappeared. He was gone longer than Treguard would have expected but he returned with an armful of wood. Treguard set about starting a fire when he noticed Pickle had something else.

"What's that?" Pickle held up what looked like a nut.

"A spider trapped in a nut shell, master." He tucked it into one of Velda's pockets. "It's a good cure for a fever." Treguard frowned but didn't object.

"Bring her over here then," he said once the fire was going. Pickle carefully moved her and sat cradling her head in his lap. Treguard lay down on the other side and drifted off to sleep.

It was still dark when he awoke. He sat up and rummaged in his bag for some breakfast.

"How is she?" he asked Pickle.

"No worse but no better," he replied. Treguard nodded. He ate quickly and instructed Pickle to pour water over the fire before they set off again. If they could use the ley roads they could reach Dunshelm before dark but Velda was pale and feverish. It was clear she wouldn't last another night.


	10. Chapter 10

The day was cloudy and there was no sunrise to warm their spirits. Velda's fever had taken a firm hold on her and she was incapable of anything. Treguard held her on the horse as they rode. He rode as fast as he could but was compelled to slow to follow some of the twisty ley paths. and they passed through rockier ground as they got further north that delayed them. Treguard was glad when he recognised the landscape and for a while felt they were close to their destination. However they were still many miles off and Treguard's optimism soon turned to pessimism as he continued to ride hard yet seemed to get no nearer.

Eventually however, as he left the last vestige of the town of Dunsholm behind, he sighted the castle. Urging the horse to a final effort he covered the remaining distance in record time. The horse was completely worn out when they reached the top of the crag where the castle was situated. He reined him in by the stables and Treguard quickly unstopped Pickle's bottle. As soon as the elf appeared he passed Velda down to him.

"I'll take her to the dungeon ante-chamber," he said jumping down and taking the elf-maid back. "You must hurry and find Hordriss." Pickle wasted no time in bounding across the courtyard into the castle but Treguard called after him unnecessarily.

"Quickly now!" He followed the elf into the castle with the invalid in his arms. It worried him that she weighed so little though he doubted she weighed much more when well. He followed Pickle's steps down to the antechamber, though the elf had long-since vanished from sight, and laid Velda carefully on the hearthrug. Her breathing was unnaturally shallow and her skin was like ice: both cold and pale. Ordinarily he might have taken her to a bedchamber but in this case time was of the essence. this was the closest room to the dungeon and the Dungeon Master knew the mage would be found within the dungeon. He paced as he waited for Pickle's return. He would have cursed if he didn't know the elf would bring Hordriss as fast as he could. Then there was an implosion of light and they appeared. Pickle had apparently informed Hordriss of the situation for he went to Velda's side without a word. He wasted no time in checking her condition.

"She is close," he said mystically before laying a hand upon her forehead and closing his eyes. "Apage!" he commanded. "Abi impurus maledictum!" Magic prickled the air and Hordriss sagged. Treguard quickly helped him to the chair while Pickle returned to Velda's side.

"The fever's gone, master!" he said gleefully.

"Yes," Hordriss said. "A few hours more though and she would have been beyond even _my_ power to cure. I hope she was worth the promise made."

"Promise? what promise?" Treguard looked from one to the other. Pickle looked nervous but replied.

"I couldn't immediately find Hordriss, master. But I met Malice who said Hordriss owed her a favour."

"Most definitely repaid." Hordriss muttered.

"What did you promise Malice, elf?"

"She said she'd get Hordriss for Velda if I promised to put myself at her disposal for no more than an hour sometime soon." Treguard was at once furious and dreadfully concerned.

"Pickle, have you no idea what she wanted with you?" Pickle could only shake his head but he added.

"Whatever it is, master, Velda is worth it." Treguard couldn't bring himself to reproach the elf.

"You better take her to one of the guest rooms," he said. Pickle carefully picked her up and carried her away. Treguard turned to Hordriss.

"Is there anything you can do?" he asked. The old mage shook his head.

"It was a promise freely given and a deal openly made. She has kept her side of the bargain already. The fay is in her debt. When she calls he must answer." He rose to his feet to depart but added. "My advice would be to keep him out of earshot." Treguard nodded.

Meanwhile, Velda had been laid in a spare room and was resting peacefully. Pickle sat by her all night and when she awoke in the morning his smiling face was the first thing she saw. Though her fever and illness was gone, she was still too weak to rise and she had to spend the day in bed with Pickle waiting on her. Treguard also stopped by to check on her but as Lord of the castle he had matters to attend to. He remembered to send payment to Sir Edmund for the loss of his horse and also to send word to the elves of Freneville. Numerous other things also needed his attention. the larder had to be restocked after his prolonged absence and the rooms aired. All in all he was busy all day. But Pickle kept Velda entertained though he made no mention of his promise to Malice.

The following day she was strong enough to get up although she tired quickly. Pickle took her from room to room and she sat and rested while he recounted tales of his days in the castle. And so the week passed and her strength gradually returned. However, Pickle was still concerned about her. Although her strength had come back she still seemed to have no energy or enthusiasm. He endeavoured to raise her spirits with trips of exploration in the castle and excursions in the lands about it but she continued to sigh. It frustrated him that she would not say what was wrong but insisted she was fine. Merely tired.

He entreated Lord Treguard's help but he could suggest no reason for her lethargy other than her recent illness. However he did suggest a visit to her old friends in Duns might cheer her up. So Pickle encouraged her to go with him into the village and introduce him to her old friends. She was reluctant at first but eventually agreed. It came as quite a surprise to Folly and Gretel to see Velda on their doorstep after so many years.

And it seemed to do the trick. Pickle was pleased to see Velda laugh again. There was a lot of chat about what had been happening over the years. Folly and Gretel introduced them to their two children, Joseph and Epona. She was still just a babe in arms but the boy was old enough to join their conversation. He was thrilled to meet some real elves and begged them for tales of their adventures. Pickle was always happy to relate tales of his adventures with his master, Treguard, and launched into the story of how they had gone looking for the Holy Grail. However by the end of the story, while Joseph was in awe, Velda had that sad look back in her eyes. Gretel announced it was time for both children to be in bed and she and Velda disappeared into another room to tuck the children in. Folly spoke quietly to Pickle.

"I am pleased to see Velda again. I was worried about her after we left the dungeon."

"I must say, I hoped our visit would rekindle her fiery spirit but, while I'm sure she is glad to see you, she still seems depressed."

"She would be." Folly said bluntly. Pickle looked at him confused. "Think about it. She was always so full of pride. She'd like us to think nothing could daunt her. but she'd had so many knock backs and just when she thinks things may be getting better she's struck again by something else she cannot beat. She's lost all her confidence." Pickle was still considering the wisdom of these words when the ladies returned. The elves said their farewells and headed back to the castle.

Pickle was now faced with a dilemma. He knew what the problem with Velda was but not how he could fix it. And if he said anything to her about it, it might damage her confidence further. Once again he turned to his master for help. Treguard listened silently and considered the matter carefully before replying.

"What she needs," he said, "is to overcome some obstacle on her own." He thought a few moments longer then added. "Perhaps it is time to reopen the dungeon."

"The dungeon, master? But how should we get her to take up the challenge without implying she needs reassurance?"

"The dungeon has been closed a long while. It is only sensible to have someone test it out before opening it to all and sundry. And who better to test it than an elf-maid who has proved herself more than able on several occasions?"

"No one, master," he hesitated. "I do not like tricking Velda like this but…"

"It is for the best." Treguard assured him. "And anyway, I shall sound her out on the matter so you needn't lie to her." Pickle agreed and waited while Treguard went to speak with Velda. When he returned Pickle asked him anxiously.

"What did she say? Did she suspect?"

"No. She accepted my excuse that I merely wanted someone to test the dungeon but she did not accept the challenge so keenly as she once would have."

"She accepted though?"

"Yes. I believe she wants to prove to herself she is still capable of surviving the dungeon."

"I only hope she is, master. This is no game of numerous lives."

"Have faith, Pickle. She may have lost her confidence but not her skill." Pickle nodded. "Her challenge shall begin in the morning but mind you remember my warning." Treguard looked meaningfully at the elf who nodded again but said nothing. He watched him a moment longer before dismissing him.

"Go make sure she's prepared then." The elf darted away. Treguard sighed. Pickle was like all creatures of fay, mischievous and fanciful, but he hoped he would show some sense in this matter.

The next day dawned and Treguard was up early to greet Velda in the Great Hall. there was no warm welcome today however as he had once again taken up his duties as Dungeon Master.

"Now the time has come for you to prove your mettle," he said. "Remember that the dungeon beneath this castle exists to test the many qualities that a fine knight should possess. In addition to quick-wittedness, you must demonstrate bravery, diplomacy, honour and mercy. These were all virtues that Richard the Lionheart demonstrated in abundance." Velda nodded, her jaw set in determination even though her heart was pounding. The thought of failure scared her more than the tests or traps. Treguard gave her a pair of soft boots with the advice.

"I'd wear these if I were you. You never know what you might tread on in the dungeon." Then he held out the Helm of Justice. She took it as well and was pleased to see her hand was steady.

"I accept the challenge," she declared. Treguard smiled for the first time.

"I'm surprised Pickle hasn't come to see you off," he commented.

"He's always late," she replied.

"If he were here he'd doubtless sneak you some aid. Or attempt to at any rate. So choose: a spell or something to eat later." She considered a moment before deciding.

"A spell."

"Very wise. You might always find food, after all, but magic is hard to come by. Now, which spell will you take? Stealth, shield or rust?" Velda smiled.

"Stealth sounds like my sort of spell."

"Not a bad choice," admitted Treguard, "the STEALTH spell makes you almost totally silent and invisible to creatures with normal vision. But it only lasts a short time, so don't idle about once you've cast it."

"That should make up for my not using my native magic."

"It wouldn't matter terribly if you did." Treguard reassured her.

"You wanted this dungeon tested for mortals," she reminded him, "so I shall approach the challenge as a mortal."

"Very well," he conceded. "It shall make your victory all the more rewarding." She placed the Helm on her head and adjusted herself to the weight. Her vision was impaired by it but thankfully not completely blocked. Slowly she turned to the doorway and stepped forward. With only Lord Treguard watching she felt called upon to walk boldly. If Pickle had been there she doubted her spirit would have held. Once over the threshold though, there was no turning back.


	11. Chapter 11

The first room she encountered was a brazier-lit hall. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and looked about. There were four exits in the wall opposite her, each with a symbol inscribed above it. She considered them. There was a sun, a moon, a comet and a ringed planet. None of them suggested anything particular to her so she chose one at random and moved onwards, hoping she hadn't made some simple but fatal mistake.

Then, as she came to a vestibule with an alcove in the right hand side wall, her heart skipped a beat. There, waiting for her in an ermine cloak, was Pickle. He'd set up a makeshift stall. She smiled under the Helm as she approached.

"What's this? An adventurers' outfitters?" He waved his hands expansively.

"It's an imp market. You must have heard of the goblin market. This is like that, only you don't get ripped off." He laughed and Velda suddenly felt everything would be alright. She scrutinised the objects for sale. He had a jar of salt, a pair of winged sandals, a jar of oil, a short sword and a lead crucifix. Her confidence suddenly drained though as she realised something.

"Any of them might be useful, but I don't have any money." Pickle looked furtively to right and left, then he leaned closer and whispered,

"Well, as long as you don't tell the guv'nor, I'll let you have 'em on credit. Take any three items you like."

"What would I do without you?" she smiled. Then she turned her attention back to the stall. She picked up the short sword and gave it a couple of experimental swings. Satisfied she hung it on her belt.

"I thought you'd like that," Pickle said slyly.

"I'm not about to go unarmed through the dungeon whether it breaks the adventurer's code or not." She considered the other items. "Well, Treguard wanted me to have shoes," she said to herself as she picked up the sandals and then hesitated a moment before picking up the salt as well.

"Why the salt?" Pickle asked. Velda shrugged.

"It was the only other item to begin with an 's'. Besides, you didn't expect me to choose the crucifix did you?"

"No," Pickle glanced at it uncomfortably out of the corner of his eye.

"Thanks Pickle. I must confess, I feel much more confident now I've seen you." She turned and set off confidently into the dungeon.

"Then getting up early and braving the dangers of the dungeon was all worth while," he called after her.

She followed a short passage until she came to a room with a newel staircase descending precipitously. A way down to the second level. She began to make her way down when she noticed a door in the side wall. Ever curious she opened the door and looked in. She doubted anyone had been in there in a while as the door creaked terribly and she caught a glimpse of rats at the far end of the room, squeaking protests at the sudden intrusion of torchlight. She also saw a copper-banded chest about ten metres away. However, there was a five metre wide pit between her and the box. She approached the edge of the drop and looked down. Even with her superior eyesight, she couldn't see the bottom. Glancing about she saw a pebble and dropped it down.

"One, two, three, four…" the sound of stone on rock echoed up. It was about a hundred paces deep then. She couldn't hope to survive such a fall and she wasn't sure she could jump it either. Luckily though she had a pair of _winged_ sandals.

Velda took off her normal shoes and held onto them so she could replace them once across. She felt a momentary twinge of panic as she proceeded to step out across the pit but the sandals kept her aloft, as she trusted they would. But when she reached the far side they slipped off her feet and flew away before she could catch them. She cursed briefly but then turned her attention to the chest. There was a plate on the lid bearing the inscription:

Take off your helm,

Count to three,

Make a wish,

Then open me.

Velda had enough sense not to fall for that trick and she wrenched up the lid without taking any notice of the instructions.

Crouched inside was a vile boggart, no bigger than a cat. It had eyes like little glass buttons and a mouth full of sharp teeth as well as a pinch of something like snuff in its bony hand. It had obviously intended to throw it in Velda's face but, on discovering she was still protected by the Helm, it cursed in a surprisingly deep voice and tried to scramble away. But Velda was quicker. She quickly slammed the lid back down and snared the hem of its cloak. Seconds later she had a firm grip on the loathsome little creature.

"Let me go! Let me go!" it cried. "Release me mortal, and I'll grant three wishes." Velda shook it angrily.

"I am no mortal!" She kept hold of it while it struggled and squirmed and even threatened to bite her. It desisted when she pointed out that she could easily smash its brains out against the wall. Suddenly Treguard's voice spoke to her out of nowhere.

"Capital. Whilst you hold the fay, no offence meant, you can force it to help you." Velda felt proud that she'd so far managed to please the Dungeon Master. She took the pouch of sleep dust off the boggart and then demanded it get her back across the pit. Sullenly it obeyed by summoning a swarm of maybugs to form a flying bridge. Only Velda's ethereal light frame enabled her to cross safely. She doubted it would have supported a much heavier dungeoneer.

"Listen," the creature growled, "if you promise to release me I'll tell you one secret. But choose carefully whose: of Hordriss the Confuser, of the Seigneur des Mouches or of the Wight's tomb?" Velda had no interest in wights and no wish to hear of the demon again so she chose the mage. "Well, lately Hordriss has developed a strange fixation since talking to a fanatic Templar knight. He assumes that anyone he encounters is actually a faerie creature in disguise, - not an entirely unreasonable assumption incidentally, here in the dungeon of Knightmare." Velda's glare managed to penetrate the Helm and the boggart hastily continued. "At any rate, you can convince him of your 'humanity' by solving one of his complicated puzzles, as he believes that fays are incapable of rational thought. He does, that is, I don't. Even better, show him a crucifix if you have one – the Templar explained to him that no fay can bear a crucifix you see. However I doubt you've got one of those." Velda continued to scowl at him but as agreed she let him go. However he wasn't at all grateful and continued to hiss and spit curses at her. She countered with some equally vicious insults, whereupon it finally ran off.

She left the room after it, though it had already vanished from sight, and was about to continue down the stairs when she heard Treguard's voice again.

"Velda, you haven't by any chance seen Pickle have you?" Velda was surprised by this question as she'd assumed the Dungeon Master would see everything that happened in the dungeon but she replied smoothly,

"No master." Treguard had often complained of Pickle interfering in quests so she wasn't going too let him know he'd helped her earlier.

"Only, I've looked high and low here," Treguard continued, "and I'm concerned he may have ventured into the dungeon."

"He is no fool, my Lord. He can take care of himself."

"Even against Malice?" Velda hesitated. Malice was an evil sorceress of whom she'd heard many unpleasant rumours but she couldn't see why Treguard would specify her.

"I don't understand you."

"No, possibly not. Pickle enlisted Malice's aid when you were feverish to find Hordriss. In return he put himself at her disposal, though hopefully not literally."

"But if she finds him in the dungeon…" the thought was too terrible to contemplate.

"Precisely. That was why I forbade him to enter." Velda was thankful Treguard couldn't see her face.

"Do not fear, my Lord. I shall find him."

"No," Treguard said firmly. "Your quest isn't to locate foolish elves. But if you do see him, send him back at once." Velda felt his presence leave her and in a sudden rush ran down the stairs.

Waiting at the bottom though was a tall man in rainbow coloured robes. A diadem of gold encircled his high brow and he held a long staff of sparkling ice. Velda had seen him before, if only briefly, and recognised Hordriss the Confuser. He didn't recognise her under the Helm and fixed her with a furious stare.

"What is this?" he exclaimed. "Are you mayhap, a goblin in the guise of an adventurer? If so, prepare to be shrivelled by a spell, fell faerie beast!" Velda sighed impatiently. She didn't have time for this. Under her breath she quickly cast the STEALTH spell and moments later she vanished. The sorcerer blinked and rubbed his eyes.

"May the Furies curse me for a soft-hearted fool," he moaned. "I should have slain the goblin when I first clapped eyes on it, instead of giving it time to work it's magic." While he ranted to himself, Velda made her way silently and invisibly across the room to where two archways led out of the study. She slipped through the nearest one just as she felt the spell wear off.

Her immediate panic about Pickle had worn off but she still hurried along the corridor. It opened into a circular room with old rushes strewn across the floor. A jester was practising his juggling tricks in the middle of the room. She recognised him at once as Motley and she grimaced behind the Helm. To her mind, he was an insolent oaf who was a poor substitute for Folly. He hadn't noticed her so she moved stealthily round the room to the two doors. She praised Danu, as she managed to sneak out of the room, that the fool had been too intent on his tricks to notice her. The last thing she wanted now was to be delayed by that idiot.

Another oak-panelled passage led her further into the dungeon. She came to a junction and followed a flicker of light down one of the branches. It shone above a great staircase of black marble that descended into the bowels of the earth. Once again Treguard spoke to her via the Helm of Justice.

"Well done, adventurer. Now you have only to descend to the third level and find a certain key of luminous crystal for your quest to be judged a success. But beware, because there is yet one more great peril to menace you." Velda steeled her nerves and began to descend the stairs. She felt more determined to succeed now she had something to aim for and her fear for Pickle had diminished. Surely they'd have heard from Malice if she'd found him?

The steps led her through a dark cavern as high as a cathedral, where flickers of phosphorescence crawled mysteriously across the distant walls. At the bottom she found a path of grey flagstones that she followed to a circular ossuary. Here, reliquary shrines stored the bones of those slain by Knightmare Castle's previous lord, the Gruagach. She shivered slightly and, anxious to leave the chamber as quickly as possible, she hurried over to one of the three doors. It was a huge door and it took a bit of strength to get it open. Once through, she was faced with a long tunnel, well lit by torches blazing in brackets all along the walls, though it was a smoky red illumination. What caught her eye was the floor beneath her feet. It wasn't solid stone but a stout iron grille fixed into the tunnel walls. She took a small coin from her pocket, the only one she had, and dropped it between the bars of the grille. It fell away into the unfathomable blackness far below without a sound. A limitless drop then. Thankfully Velda did not suffer from vertigo and the iron grille could easily support her weight if maybugs could. She advanced, grateful for the shoes that protected her from the iron.

About halfway across though, a clammy feeling of unease gripped her heart. Sudden panic rooted her to the spot and she couldn't bring herself to turn. She recognised the feeling as well as the sound of the footsteps behind her, though they rang harshly on the iron bars of the grille. Not footsteps. Hoof beats. Like some rough beast. She felt the familiar sulphurous breath against the back of her neck.

But she couldn't fail in her quest! Drawing on all her courage she threw the salt over her shoulder. There was a shriek of pain as the Seigneur des Mouches was burned as though by acid. He lashed out blindly in his rage before Velda could move and caught her across the back with what felt like claws. Velda managed to sprint away and escaped through the end door before his vision cleared.

Breathing heavily she realised she now stood in the final chamber. No doorways led on from here. There was only a massive pair of scales in the room, supported above a pit. On one pan rested the glowing crystal key that Treguard had charged her to find and balancing this on the other pan was a key of plain lead.

A peal of cruel laughter made Velda turn suddenly. She winced slightly. Some distance away, a majestically robed sorceress stood watching her, her lip curled in mockery. Behind her a large tapestry hung from ceiling to floor.

"Congratulations," she said insincerely. "You have reached your goal. I am Malice." Velda stared at her. She was relieved to see she didn't appear to have Pickle.

"Do you mean to say I'm going to have to fight you for the key?" It was a daunting prospect. Velda was already injured and the sorceress could fry her with a spell before she took two paces towards her. Malice sneered.

"Not at all. Take it if you wish, and then you've beaten the challenge. But you might like to take a look at this first!" So saying she tore down the tapestry to reveal a crystal casket set into an alcove. Velda was horrified to see Pickle was locked inside it, vainly beating on the door with his pale hands. And then she noticed that the casket was filling with water!

"It's no ordinary casket, nor ordinary water," Malice assured her. "Pickle can't escape, and he'll not only drown like the mortal he'd like to be – he'll dissolve away into ectoplasmic sludge as well." Velda stared at her aghast.

"You incredible fiend!" she managed to say. Malice only laughed.

"If it concerns you so, why not take the key that will free him? It's the leaden one there. But of course, if you do that the other key will drop down into the pit and you'll have failed in your quest… you must make up your mind. The scales are too big for you to reach both pans at once." Malice's eyes sparkled maliciously.

But for Velda there was really no choice to make.

"Hang the quest," she exclaimed as she seized the lead key, letting the other slide off into the pit. She expected Malice to be gleeful at seeing her fail in her quest but instead she screamed in rage. With a stamp of her foot she created a cloud of sorcerous smoke and vanished. Velda wasted no time wondering about the sorceress but hurried over to the crystal casket to free Pickle.

"Velda," Pickle began as she came over.

"Sirona," she corrected him.

"Sirona?"

"After all you've risked for me, how could I not trust you with my real name?" She smiled at him as he unlocked the casket.

"But the quest…" he said as the door opened and he was freed.

"Nothing matters more than you Pickle," she said taking his hands.

"Beltane," he corrected her with a smile.

Before she could reply, a strange sensation came over her and looking around, she saw the outlines of the room melt away like a faded painting. To her immense relief she saw they were back in the dungeon antechamber. Treguard was standing beside the hearth, his massive shoulders silhouetted against the crackling fire in the grate. Gently Pickle took the Helm off Velda and carried it over to the chest where it was kept between quests. Treguard nodded a greeting to him and then turned to Velda.

"I have failed," she said downcast. "I failed to get the key." Treguard boomed with laughter. Velda looked up surprised.

"Failed? Not a bit of it! You succeeded most admirably, my young friend. What kind of knight would it be, after all, who valued a mere trinket of treasure above the life of an innocent?" He tousled Pickle's hair as he went past him to Velda's side. "You passed the most important test of all – you stayed true to Chivalry, and you will pass from these portals as a true Champion of Knightmare!" Velda felt proud of herself, as she hadn't done in years. She smiled at Pickle who held her hand happily.

"Is the dungeon open for business again now master?" he asked Treguard eagerly.

"We shall have to wait and see," Treguard replied, "because:

Play fair, or Fear play foul,

Game on resumes at the witching hour."

5


End file.
